


It's always spring (when you're the king)

by felentae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anticapitalist Jongdae, Awkward Sex, Businessman Yixing, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun, Past Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Joonmyun | Suho, banana innuendos, farmer Jongdae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-03 23:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12156705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felentae/pseuds/felentae
Summary: Jongdae is a banana farmer known as the King of Bananas, so it’s only natural that the biggest grocery chain in the region wants to sell his product. The problem is that Jongdae is against big corporations, and the negotiator the company sends to offer him a deal isn’t that experienced either.





	It's always spring (when you're the king)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, what a trip! I didn't expect writing so much!
> 
> First of all, I want to thank my prompter. I wasn't planning on joining this fest at all, but your prompt looked at me and begged me to claim it and... well, it's pretty obvious what happened after that. Very original idea, really fun to write. I only hope people like what I created with it!  
> A really big, HUGE, thank you to the Goldenfest mods. They were (are) so great all along, and they were really understanding about my struggles even though I was really late to their deadlines. I'm so sorry about that guys, I hope you all like my fic! I think the wait really paid off :')  
> Big thanks to my last minute beta ([daisukis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/daisukis/)) for listening (reading) to me crying so much about this fic. What would have I done without you, honestly fjkdsj  
> And I want to thank Shakira too because I spent /months/ listening to her songs (among others that I'll include below) to get in the mood for this fic lmao
> 
> I've placed this story in no particular country, so yeah any laws or rules mentioned I pulled them out of my ass.  
> That said, the amount of research I've done for this fic is absolutely ridiculous, to the point that I'm considering leaving everything behind and starting a banana plantation of my own. Or a cooperative plantation, if I find enough friends lmao  
> Also, sorry about how... political? things get in a few scenes. I spent a lot of time thinking about my characters and the reason behind their disagreements and I think it was necessary. It isn't that bad though, don't let this note scare you.
> 
>  
> 
> ________________
> 
> These are some of the songs I used to get a mental picture of the plantation and xingdae's story. Most are in Spanish but lyrics are not relevant, the most important thing is the feeling they give. You don't have to listen to them but they're great as background music for this fic!
> 
> 1\. [Ten - Dream In A Dream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4gCv1CifJg)
> 
> 2\. [Culture Club - Karma Chameleon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmcA9LIIXWw)
> 
> 3\. [Chambao - Imagina](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REfF4ikm5ug)
> 
> 4\. [Navajita Plateá - Noches de Bohemia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQurxv77QDI)
> 
> 5\. [Niña Pastori - Cuando te beso](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3_8Crhg5Lo)
> 
> 6\. [Estopa - El Run Run (ft. Rosario)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZs4eDy9JY8)
> 
> 7\. [Shakira - Chantaje (versión Salsa ft. Maluma)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVcE5PFXpbQ)
> 
> 8\. [Shakira - Me Enamoré](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPTn0QEhxds)

 

Jongdae can feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, hair curls sticking to it. The tropical sun stings on his skin and the humid heat is almost unbearable, but he smiles and takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of wet dirt, rotting leaves and sweet ripe fruits. This is exactly what makes the fields feel like home. He stretches his back, whimpering at his stiffness, throws the shovel over his shoulder and strolls towards the warehouse.

It's almost noon and the small warehouse is filled to the brim with bananas ready to be packed and delivered. Jongdae gives a silent _hi_ with a nod and a tight smile to the few workers that are busying themselves assembling carton boxes and chatting lively in a corner. They smile back without stopping their hands or the jokes among themselves as Jongdae hangs his shovel on its hook on the wall and starts arranging the fruits on a long table. He will need help to check that all of them are good for delivery, but that's a task for later and he can start now on his own.

Over the noise of the workers' laughs and his own heavy breath, he hears a car park outside. It sounds way too smooth to be one of their vans, so he takes a barely clean rag from the back pocket of his overalls and wipes the sweat from his face to at least look half presentable.

As expected, a well-dressed man appears seconds later, sticking his head from the left side of the warehouse's gate with a disoriented look on his face. He's wearing a navy blue suit and a gray tie over the white shirt, black shoes way too fancy for the mud sticking to them, and carrying a yellow folder. Jongdae worries for a second, thinking that he could be bringing bad news, but immediately puts that thought aside as the guy comes closer. He looks extremely lost and too young to be responsible for anything.

“Ehm... hello, good morning. May I speak to the manager?” asks the guy, obviously nervous. His voice sounds like one kids would use when asking permission to go to the bathroom.

“What for?” Jongdae warily asks, turning to face him with all his body and wiping his hands on the sides of his overalls.

“Err... if it isn't too much to ask, I would prefer to talk directly to him.” He gives Jongdae a sheepish smile for a few seconds and suddenly flinches. “Or her!” His smile is wider and somewhat more resolute. Jongdae sighs.

“You have him in front of you.”

He gives Jongdae a bewildered look and looks around, searching for another person. Jongdae sighs harder this time.

“ _I_ am the manager, and the owner for that matter.” Jongdae marks his words pointing at himself, frustrated, not wanting to risk the other not understanding what he's saying _again_.

The look the guy gives him is even more bewildered than before. Jongdae can almost hear the gears moving inside his skull and something making 'click' when he opens his eyes wide and hurries to answer.

“Oh— OH! I'm so sorry, you are so young, I wasn't expecting... Oh my god, that was rude, of course you can be the owner. I'm so sorry.”

Jongdae gives him a questioning look. He's more than used to people thinking he's just an employee, especially since he spends his days working in the plantation and covered in dirt and sweat from head to toe. It's a common misunderstanding, but not one that requires an apology, in his book. Being a manual worker is not something to be ashamed of, and, if anything, the only offense here is assuming he should be.

The guy shuffles and digs through his folder long enough, finally handing out a business card to Jongdae with both hands and a soft smile.

“Hello, my name is Yixing Zhang, I'm an operations assistant for Timsa. Timsa is the biggest grocery chain in the region, I'm pretty sure you've heard about us.”

Jongdae winces at the corporate _'us'_ and politely takes the business card, instantly staining the white paper with the dirt between his fingers. He doesn't even bother reading it and just looks up again to give Yixing a nod, prompting him to continue.

“Ah, yes. I want to discuss a potential deal with you to distribute your bananas in our stores. If we could talk somewhere else, privately...” He adds, gradually lowering his voice as he speaks, and throws an almost imperceptible glance at the corner where the shuffling noise of workers talking and assembling boxes has stopped at some point.

Jongdae turns to look at his employees and chuckles. Of course they were eavesdropping, you can't have any secrets in this farm. And especially when said secrets might affect their ability to put a meal on their tables. He looks again at the business card in his hand and grimaces, handing it back.

“I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. It's too bad you came this far for nothing.”

Yixing takes back his business card without even realizing, agape and looking completely lost. It's almost endearing. Jongdae would have felt bad for him if he didn't work for a big corporation, if he's honest with himself.

“B—but I didn't even... we haven't talked about the deal yet!” Yixing looks at him with puppy eyes, a glint of hurt in his words and, okay, maybe Jongdae can feel just a little bit bad for him even if he works for a big corporation.

“I'm not interested in any deal with your company. Listen, I know it's a shame you came this far for nothing, I'll give you a banana for the road.” Jongdae pulls a banana from its bunch and shoves it into his hand with a tight smile. He pats Yixing's shoulder lightly and immediately regrets it when he sees the handprint of dirt left on his otherwise impeccable suit, but he doesn't say anything. Hopefully, he won't notice until he takes it off.

“But this deal would make your sales skyrocket! Please let me explain it to you, it won't take long.”

Jongdae regrets offering a banana to the enemy. The thought of taking it back crosses his mind briefly, but it would be very rude, and that just isn't how he was raised. He turns to his work table and resumes arranging the bunches of bananas for delivery.

“I'm sorry, it's my final answer. Please leave, we're very busy.”

Jongdae sees in the corner of his eye that Yixing takes a step forward towards him and opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it again without saying anything. He looks around, bewildered, and the workers in the corner cough loudly and resume their carton box noises to mask their laughs without much success. He digs through his folder again, taking out what looks like a report sheet and scans it.

“I can't leave like this. I don't even know the name of the person I addressed,” he mutters to himself, although it sounds more like a little whine.

Jongdae looks up. The guy _looks_ professional, but he's clearly very inexperienced. Probably just a trainee on his first task. He wants to punch himself for pitying the corp kid dressed up as an adult in front of him.

“Jongdae Kim.”

“What?”

“My name is Jong – dae – Kim,” he articulates as slowly as he can.

Yixing stares at him for several seconds and Jongdae huffs, thinking about all the time wasted that could have been used on working ahead to get an early lunch. He can bid goodbye to that nap with a full stomach he was looking forward to.

In one quick movement, Jongdae pulls out the report sheet from Yixing's hands and takes the pen tucked in the pocket of his overalls, writing his name in the corresponding field and covering with dirt half of the surface of the white paper.

“There you go. Sorry about the dirt.”

“It—it's okay, it doesn't matter...” Yixing takes the sheet back, confusedly looking at it for a second before placing it inside his folder.

“Now you can leave, we have a lot to do here. Enjoy your banana.” Jongdae gives him his brightest smile, albeit forced, and points to the gate, hoping that the kid will take his cue and stop wasting his time.

“Okay... Thank you for your attention.” Yixing turns and walks slowly towards the exit, frowning at the banana and the folder in his hands, like he didn't understand what just happened.

But going halfway through the gate, something visibly clicks inside his head and he turns around quickly, waving his hand.

“I'll come back another day! Thank you for the banana!”

Yixing has a cheerful, innocent smile on his face, with two gorgeous dimples on his cheeks and eyes turning up into little crescents. Jongdae falters for a second, forgetting the reason why the guy even wanted to talk to him, and can't help but smile back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Early mornings in the tropical valley feel chilly and sticky wet, even if the weather never gets cold enough for it to be a bother. The few hours before the sun starts shining with all its might up in the sky are the only time of the day when Jongdae can indulge himself and wear a thin sweater over his shirt. It isn't like he needs it, but having his arms covered for a change just feels nice from time to time, and he's the type of person that enjoys these little pleasures in life.

Near the open gate of the warehouse, Jongdae talks to a regular customer about the delivery times for next month as he mindlessly plays with the hem of his long sleeves. Birds chirp lazily somewhere between the branches above their heads. A group of workers arrive and pat him on the back on their way in, a fond gesture from people he's known for literal _decades_. Early mornings are Jongdae's favorite moment of the day, when everything and everyone seems to be waking up and getting ready for the day ahead, and nothing can ever ruin them.

Nothing, except spotting a certain guy with a well tailored grey suit and a docile smile walking towards him.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim! I see you're busy, I'll wait inside until you have a minute,” Yixing smiles and walks inside the warehouse without an invitation.

Jongdae doesn't react quick enough to tell him that he won't ever have a minute to listen to him, and he's left flailing helplessly at empty air with his mouth open, not saying anything in the end.

Jongdae almost forgets about it but, several minutes later, when he sees his customer off and goes inside ready to start the day, the memory hits him in the face.

As soon as he goes through the door, he spots Yixing sitting on a small box on the floor, holding his knees against his chest. He may have the size of an adult man but, scrunched like that, he just looks like a preschool kid. It's actually a bit endearing, Jongdae thinks, and he can't help but smile to himself before he remembers who he is and the reason why he's here.

Jongdae opts for avoiding eye contact and keeps moving towards the other end of the warehouse, but it seems like Yixing is paying attention, because he springs up immediately and follows closely behind.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim. I was hoping we could have a short conversation today about the deal I mentioned the other day.” Jongdae doesn't turn around, but he doesn't need to see him to feel Yixing's sheepish smile in the way he speaks.

“I don't have time for you today either,” Jongdae answers inexpressibly without stopping nor looking at him.

“I did a lot of research since the last time, please let me just explain the proposal to you.”

Jongdae huffs loudly. Getting rid of him isn't going to be an easy task.

“I knew before coming the first time that your product had very good sales but I couldn't believe the numbers, I was so surprised when I saw how much you sell every year.”

Jongdae walks through a small door in one corner of the warehouse, purposely ignoring Yixing's words, and enters a tiny room filled with boxes, random tools and a metal rack with work clothes. He takes off his sweater and places it carefully on a hanger.

“But you opened my eyes the other day, I understood why they call you the King of Bananas. My mind was completely blown.” Yixing gestures with his hands around his head to show how his brains exploded and makes matching sound effects to give his performance that tidbit of depth. Jongdae can't take it anymore. He just stares in disbelief as he takes off his work boots and unbuttons his jeans.

“Your banana was delicious, I've never had something that good in my mouth before,” Yixing says passionately.

 _Oh_. Jongdae snickers. “I hear that a lot.” He turns his head to wink at him, unabashed. Yixing blinks and the smile in his face fades as his jaw slacks, his previous excitement replaced quickly by an startled expression. Jongdae feels proud of himself. This is definitely the right approach to get rid of the corporate minion.

“I can give you a better one, I'm sure you'd like it even better.” Jongdae smirks and bites his lip, making it deliberately sexual as he pulls his jeans slowly down his thighs.

“W—what?” Yixing stutters, face blushing wildly. “Am I getting sexually harassed? And why are you getting naked?”

“What do you mean? I'm talking about bananas.” Jongdae chuckles as he takes his jeans off, standing on only a white t-shirt and a pair of black boxers. “The real question here is: why are you in here while I'm changing into my work clothes? Am _I_ getting sexually harassed?”

Yixing opens his mouth to answer but gets lost midway looking up and down at Jongdae's body. He flexes a bit, probably imperceptible, but he knows he looks good (physical work like his has its perks) and, even if he is more on the skinny side, his muscles are lean and defined. It's something he's proud of and, looking at how Yixing's face goes impossibly darker, it's something others tend to like too.

Yixing turns around and bolts out, closing the door behind himself. Jongdae can't stop laughing the whole time it takes him to put on his dark green overalls and his work boots.

But happiness doesn't last too long and his laugh dies off when he opens the door and sees the suited up man patiently waiting outside with a heavy expression.

“I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean to break your privacy,” he blurts out.

Jongdae nods pressing his lips into a thin line and walks away, dodging him. He takes the fertilizer sprayer that sits against the wall and wears it on his back. It looks like a plastic tank with a lever on one side and a little hose on the other and two straps to wear it like a backpack.

“I didn't realize that you were going to change your clothes, the door was open and—”

“Forget about it, everyone here has seen me in underwear before. You can leave, I have stuff to do,” Jongdae says, trying to sound as firm as he can.

But Jongdae knows very well by now that he won't leave that easily. Yixing doesn't sound lost this time, he's determined to get to him, but Jongdae really doesn't have time to waste or patience to listen to a deal he knows he isn't interested in. He just wants to do his work in peace, finish early, eat something delicious and take a nice nap under the palm trees during the hottest hours of the day, and every minute he wastes with Yixing is a minute less he has to enjoy later by himself.

Jongdae goes through the back door and out into the plantation, getting lost between banana palms as he puts a white dust mask over his face and starts pumping the lever of the sprayer up and down.

He stops at a certain row of trees and pulls the mask off his face for a second to take a deep breath, relishing in the sweet green and fruity smell. Few early rays of sunlight pass through the green leaves, but enough to start heating the wet soil and give the environment that humid and earthy feel that by now is permanently imbued on his skin. The air is particularly humid between the plants and makes his face and arms immediately feel sticky every time he walks into the fields. Jongdae likes to think that banana plantations are like groups of penguins, individual plants working together to shelter those in the middle even if the highest leaves and the outer rows have to withstand fast winds and strong rays of sunlight for the greater good.

To be honest, Jongdae thinks bananas are kind of cute. _His_ bananas. He can't prevent the proud smile that creeps into his face when he looks around at his 4 meters tall babies.

“So, as I was saying... I'm very impressed with your bananas and I really think I'll be able to offer you a very favorable deal to sell your product in our grocery stores,” Yixing pants out in the most professional voice he can muster.

Somehow, he managed to follow closely behind, although clearly gasping for air. Jongdae looks back to find him trying to shake a wet brown leaf off the tip of his leather shoe. His fancy loafers are covered in dirt that will certainly take a lot of time and effort to clean, but Jongdae can't care less.

“Honestly, I'm not interested. You're wasting your time and mine,” Jongdae says, his voice coming out muffled from behind the dust mask. He adjusts the tank on his back and sprays around the first banana plant, right where the trunk leaves the ground.

“Just let me explain! Look, I have a graph of the estimated growth your business will experiment with our agreement.”

Yixing takes his time digging a paper sheet from his yellow folder and runs to Jongdae, already spraying around the fifth trunk. Jongdae ignores him and moves towards the next plant, but Yixing shoves the graph on his face, forcing him to look at it.

“What part of _'not interested'_ do you not understand?” Jongdae snaps angrily, swatting the sheet away from his face and tossing it to the ground. Yixing loses his balance and almost falls backwards, but manages to hold onto the trunk of the banana palm just before his butt touches the floor and immediately stands straight again, clearly surprised.

“But... why?” He asks, unrelenting. “I don't understand why you want to pass on an opportunity like this.”

“Because companies like yours are what destroys places like this. You don't care about our workers, you don't care about our plantation, you don't care about the valley. The only thing you care about is raising profits. Have you thought about what will I need to do to live up to your expectations?” Jongdae huffs and moves closer, somehow towering Yixing despite being shorter than him.

“I have many other buyers, will I have to stop supplying them to meet your demands? So when I only have your company to support my plantation and all the families that depend on it to survive, with what new terms will your company come up? How many extra hours my employees will have to work to keep up? Will I have to fire them and hire cheaper workforce to be able to buy more land? How many more hectares will I need to buy to supply you with as many tons of bananas as you'll need? How many people will I have to exploit for endless hours at minimum wage to barely take care of all of that? What will I do when the quality predictably lowers and your company drops the contract?”

Yixing stares at him blankly, listening to the whole rant, not knowing what to say. Jongdae can see his eyes get glassy and wonders if he's going to cry. Fucking great. He just snapped at probably the only person in that company that has zero to do with their corporate bullshit.

“I—I'm sorry for yelling at you, I know you're just a pawn.” Jongdae huffs and steps away sheepishly. After all, the guy is just a messenger. But instead of crying, Yixing's eyes become red and he goes on a sudden coughing fit. _Oh_.

“You cannot be here. First of all, this is private property. Second, you're disturbing my work. And third and most importantly, you're not wearing a mask and this is a toxic product. Get away from here fast and ask someone inside to show you to the bathroom.”

Yixing nods quickly between coughs, a tear already running down his cheek. Jongdae watches him run clumsily towards the warehouse until he disappears between the palms that block his sight, and tries his best to resume his task where he left it.

But several minutes go by, spraying the rest of the row, and the heavy feeling set on his stomach doesn't seem to go away as much as he tries to ignore it. Even if he was right, he went overboard. And he didn't warn him, knowing that Yixing obviously didn't have a clue about the fertilizer. If anything bad happens, it's all his fault.

“Damn it,” Jongdae curses as he removes the mask from his face with a rough yank.

Jongdae takes the sprayer off his back and sets it on the ground. Fortunately, he's been running between the palms and playing hide and seek in the plantation since he was a toddler, so he always knows the shortest path to any point by instinct. He reaches the warehouse in the blink of an eye.

As soon as he goes through the back door, he finds Yixing at the farthest end of the place leaning against a table, both hands covering his face. Sehun, one of the youngest workers, is patting his shoulder and trying to push him to move to no avail, telling him something Jongdae can't hear from where he is.

“Sehun, help me take him to the bathroom.”

Sehun nods, understanding exactly what he means. They take an arm each and drag almost lifted in the air a crying and coughing Yixing to the tiny bathroom hidden in one corner of the warehouse.

Jongdae opens the water tap and forces Yixing down with a hand around his nape, splashing water against his face with the other hand. Yixing gasps and tries to break free, but he's breathing with difficulty and his strength is clearly weakened.

“You have to open your eyes,” Jongdae instructs.

Yixing stops fighting back and opens his eyes with a distressing whimper. The constant splashing against his face makes breathing a really hard task. He wails and chokes on his breath when a dash of water goes down his throat.

“Hey, hey. You have to breathe slowly, you're almost hyperventilating.” Jongdae straightens him by the shoulders and looks at him in the eyes. There's tears pooling on his eyelashes. They could have been just water, but the soft sobs give them away.

“That's it, breathe through your nose.”

Yixing whimpers and his breath wavers as he clearly makes an effort to calm down a bit. He follows Jongdae without opposition when he drags him outside to sit on a bench. Sehun is already filling boxes on the opposite end of the warehouse, glancing at them with a worried expression.

“Are you feeling better?” Jongdae asks, slightly worried.

Yixing loosens his light gray tie and opens the first few buttons of his shirt. Jongdae watches as water droplets slide down his face and neck, going under a soaked collar that shows a glimpse of white collarbones and a firm chest. Definitely not the time to focus on that.

Yixing whimpers. “My throat burns. I can barely breathe, I thought I was going to die.”

Jongdae chuckles at the sudden dramatics overdramatism and offers him a clean towel to dry his face before going back into the bathroom for a moment.

“Here, you should drink,” he says, handing him a glass of water.

Yixing downs it in one go and smiles up at him, embarrassed. His breath is still a little too fast and rough. Jongdae sighs loudly and laughs at him, finally relaxed.

“I've never seen such a strong reaction in so little time, either you're having an allergic reaction and you're going to choke on your own swollen throat and die or you're making a fuss out of nothing.”

“I am very sensitive to chemical products, okay? Don't laugh at me,” Yixing grumbles.

“It's my way of coping. If you die, I go to jail. This is my property, and anything that happens in here is my responsibility, remember?”

Jongdae isn't sure about how to process the alarmed look on Yixing's face, halfway between _am I going to die?_ and _am I going to send you to jail?_ , but he knows for sure he shouldn't be finding it so cute. His mind needs to focus on what's important and get back to work, so he waves at Sehun, signaling him to come.

“What you're doing can wait, leave it for later and stay here with him until he feels better and can leave on his own.” Jongdae points at Yixing, talking about him as if he weren't right there.

“If he doesn't get better come look for me, we'll have to take him to the hospital... I really don't have time to waste on useless trips today so I'm trusting you to take good care of him, okay?” Jongdae asks, smiling softly. “Give him water and all that stuff.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Sehun mock salutes and laughs when Jongdae swats his arm half-heartedly.

Jongdae leaves with a grin on his face to find his sprayer, abandoned in the middle of nowhere. He's lucky he knows the plantation like the palm of his hand.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun is Jongdae's favorite employee despite being the last person he hired, almost a year before. Yes, he's bratty, he's rebellious, and he's kind of annoying; basically, he's a 17 year old and behaves like it, but Jongdae never can find it in himself to be mad at him.

When Sehun's parents passed away, everyone in the valley pitied him, showering him in words of comfort and empty offers of help, but Jongdae knew for a fact that no one was going to do anything to actually help him — much less hire him. He was too young to be able to do any job properly, too old for the government to put him in a foster home. In the end, everyone just looked away and refused to take any responsibility, justifying it with excuses about being too caught up in their own problems.

But for better or worse, Jongdae knew the struggle of losing your family at a young age and being forced to become an adult overnight. Except that he had been lucky, inheriting the plantation and being used to work on it since he was a little kid. Sehun had nothing except an empty house to sleep in and more checks to pay than he was even aware of. Taking Sehun under his wing just felt like the obvious thing to do. Some kind of karmic payback to the universe for his own lack of struggle.

To be fair, Sehun is an extremely lazy worker. He shows up late almost every morning, he's always complaining about how hard his job is, he even used to hide behind a shed to avoid other workers giving him more tasks. But even with all of that, he does his job diligently at the end of the day.

Some days, Jongdae wonders if he should literally slap some sense into his head. Most days, he feels like he's found the little brother his parents never gave him.

And so Jongdae leaves in the afternoon earlier than usual once again to sit on the passenger seat of his tattered truck and takes a look around, checking that everything is in order.

“Fasten your belt.”

“Yes, _mom_. I didn't even have time to sit, Jesus,” Sehun whines as he adjusts the rear mirror and buckles in.

“Okay, I won't tell you what to do today, you should know by now.” Jongdae tries to sound trusting, but he glances briefly to the hand brake. Sehun is an intelligent kid, there's no doubt in that, but he still has some issues controlling his long limbs.

The car starts with a half-choked mechanical sound and rolls down the narrow dirt road in front of them. Living in the country has its perks; learning how to drive on empty roads is a lot safer than doing it in a crowded city with many other vehicles around.

The path opens as the trees at the sides of the road become shorter and leafless. The sun reflects on the muddy white hood of the truck every time the light manages to penetrate between branches, but it's not like their eyes aren't already used to it. Sehun's foot touches the brake anyway, slowing the car down just that much.

“You know, I pity Yixing.” Sehun takes a sharp turn to the left at a very slow speed, making sure that the rocks at the side of the road don't scratch the vehicle, and Jongdae feels his body relax with trust in Sehun's sudden driving skills. A completely new experience.

“Who?”

“You know who, city guy in a suit, almost died on us today?” Sehun sneers and glances quickly to the side, but Jongdae just looks ahead. There are a few houses way too close to the road for comfort along this path.

“We talked a bit, his job really sucks.”

Jongdae snorts. “You're always saying _your_ job sucks, that doesn't mean much.”

“Okay, but my job gets me money and all the chicks,” Sehun says, pulling his shirt up with his right hand to show his abs and grinning smugly at Jongdae.

“GODDAMMIT SEHUN LOOK TO THE FRONT!” Jongdae shrieks and pulls at the hand brake with both hands, making the car skid and stop just before hitting the stone wall around one of the houses. “Fuck, are you trying to kill us both?”

“Jeez, relax, at this turtle speed even your shitty car would have survived.”

Jongdae glares at him.

“I'm sorry!” Sehun laughs happily, obviously not meaning it, and part of Jongdae really wants to kick him in the face.

He opts for the least violent option, though, getting out of the car and around it, opening the driver's door and pulling Sehun out of his seat by force, practically throwing him to the floor. The kid is physically bigger and stronger than him, but Jongdae has a bigger and stronger temper.

Sehun knows that his driving class is done for the day and runs to the passenger seat as fast as he can, closing the door just right after the car starts moving.

“You're lucky you're fast, I was planning on leaving you there.”

“And make me run home alone? What kind of monster are you?” Sehun asks with a feigned hurt expression.

“The monster that's been trying to teach you how to drive for months already.”

Sehun drops the act and looks down to his hands folded on his lap, slightly embarrassed. “I'm thankful for that, you know it.”

Jongdae shifts gears with a rough motion and speeds up down the road. He probably should be angry or, at least, annoyed, but he just can't be mad at him. It's the Sehun effect, or something. “I know.”

A heavy silence sets inside the car. He can, at least, fake his anger and try to teach him a lesson from time to time.

Jongdae doesn't spare him even a glance, but he can see in the corner of his eye how Sehun shifts some on his seat, then settles and rolls down his window.

The cool breeze somehow changes completely the atmosphere between them, making it a pleasant quietness with the rattly rainforest noises buzzing in the background.

“You don't like Yixing,” Sehun says after a while, more a statement than a question.

“I don't dislike him either,” Jongdae deadpans, and it's true. The guy makes him feel... protective? He looks so lost and dazed all the time. “I just don't like him bugging me when I'm busy.”

“Still, you could've been a bit nicer, I've never seen you treating someone like that.”

Jongdae chuckles dryly. Sehun didn't even see the worst part where he literally screamed at Yixing. “I admit I was a bit harsh today, but he ended up crying. What was that? If he can't take a no for an answer why did he even come back again?”

“Because it's his job and he doesn't have a choice. And of course he was crying, Jongdae, he almost had a fucking panic attack,” Sehun snaps with a slightly frustrated tone to his voice. “What did you even say for him to come running like that into the warehouse?”

Jongdae stops the truck in front of their warehouse and takes out the keys. Sehun doesn't wait for him and just leaves the car, disappearing down the road on his way home without a word.

Belatedly, it hits him. Panic attack? That... kind of makes sense. You don't get such a strong reaction from inhaling fertilizer's vapors for one or two minutes, he knows that. _Oops_. Mental note: not alarm people under mild intoxications. It was all... probably his fault. And yet he didn't notice at all. And he made fun of Yixing.

Sehun can be a brat and immature and kind of annoying, but he's definitely a lot more perceptive than him, Jongdae has to admit.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A busy week usually means a lot to focus on. On top of the routine physical work, there's also calls from buyers to answer, deliveries to send, schedules to plan. Not a lot of time to think about other things. It's kind of stressful, but also kind of liberating, in a way. Jongdae is usually grateful for days like these that allow him to free his mind of anything that is not work and focus on the here and now.

 _Usually_.

The corporate guy doesn't show up again. It should make Jongdae feel relieved; one less thing to worry about. But it doesn't. Somehow, he finds himself more often than he would like to admit glancing at the warehouse's gate, expecting — hoping — to see a ridiculously overdressed guy with an innocent smile and a determined gaze.

He's worried. He lashed out on him for no good reason, he scared him telling him that he was going to die and then, to top it all, he laughed at him. At best, the guy has asked their superiors to be replaced by now, and someone else will pop out any of these days to bother Jongdae with proposals and sales graphs. At worst, he's quit his job. In any case, the guy won't come back, and he won't ever have a chance to apologize.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yixing appears two weeks later with a fresh new undercut that leaves Jongdae breathless for a fraction of a second. He's left his suit jacket behind and isn't wearing a tie anymore. The white shirt is still there, but the collar is casually opened to the third button, and the sleeves are carefully rolled up to his elbows.

It takes Jongdae several gaping seconds to realize that he's really the same guy, dropping what he was doing with the tools at the corner of the warehouse. And he realizes it is, in fact, Yixing, more thanks to the fact that he's still carrying his yellow folder as he approaches Jongdae than actually recognizing the guy.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” Yixing doesn't sound excited like in his previous visit, but resolute, making Jongdae's heart clutch in anticipation for some weird reason he can't come to comprehend. Probably the undercut.

“Good morning.” That's it. A great new start, smile included. A lot more polite. Jongdae goes back to try and clip the rake with the clamp that holds (should hold) it to the wall.

“Has everything been well these past few days I didn't come?” Yixing asks, and it's obvious in his voice that he's doing it out of courtesy. He's not expecting an actual answer. Although by this point he's probably just expecting hostility, Jongdae belatedly realizes.

“Yeah... Actually, I wasn't expecting you to come back.” Jongdae scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. He ought to make up for the way he behaved the last time, but he never planned on the _how_. He figured he would improvise, given the time would come. Too optimistic of a plan, in hindsight.

Yixing chuckles nervously. “Well, sorry for disappointing, but here I am again.”

The rake falls off, once again, making the loudest clanking noise against the concrete floor of the warehouse, and Jongdae huffs, frustrated. He'll need to buy a new wall hanger for the heavier tools.

“Follow me, I'll show you something you haven't seen before,” he says, and Yixing blinks and almost shakes his head out of surprise before catching his step behind Jongdae and out the back door.

It isn't a sunny morning, and the thick clouds in the sky threaten with heavy rains for the afternoon, but that's a problem for later. Or a blessing, because banana plants don't understand the concept of too much water. They still need to work on the fields later, though, and rain makes it a lot harder.

It's obvious that Yixing struggles to keep the pace in his formal shoes, not really designed to navigate dirt paths like Jongdae's work boots, but he doesn't say anything. It has quickly become evident to Jongdae that Yixing is pretty stubborn in everything he does, so Jongdae doesn't slow down either, nor speaks to offer such option, letting Yixing fight against the elements without an actual need if that's what makes him feel accomplished, anyway.

Jongdae stops at a particular point, almost hidden in the plantation, where a bunch of smaller plants hold bright red bananas, and laughs as Yixing stumbles against his back and scrambles to apologize.

“Try this,” Jongdae says, and reaches to grab one of his first ripe red bananas. They're not ready to harvest yet — they're too small — and definitely not ready to sell — not for a few more years, at least — but they're good enough to eat, if you know which one to pick.

Yixing stares at the banana for a few seconds before warily taking it in his hand. He doesn't look too convinced about the almost hot pink color of its skin. Or it could be just confusion in his face, no way to know without asking. Jongdae doesn't care that much, because he knows that any doubt will fade after he tastes it, so he takes the banana back and opens it, shoving it back into Yixing's hand.

“Try it. It's not poison, I swear,” he jokes, but Yixing's eyes go wider and, okay, maybe he should have stopped joking about death after the first time.

Jongdae wipes his fingers against his overalls as well as he can, and tears the tip of the banana with his fingers before putting it into his mouth and making a show of chewing, humming, swallowing, and licking any rests on his lips as if saying _not poison, see?_

It seems to work. Yixing snorts and takes a bite of his own. His face changes almost immediately, from a leery expression to an amazed smile, dimples included, that reaches up to his eyes.

“You like it?” Jongdae asks with a smile of his own, but it's rhetorical. Of course he does, his bananas are delicious. It never fails to make his chest swell with pride, and it suddenly gives him an idea. “I can give you a banana you'll like even more.”

Yixing chokes. He trashes, and coughs, and doubles forward, but never spits the bite in his mouth.

Jongdae's mind is itching to make an innuendo out of it (this time on purpose), but he holds back. In hindsight, he should have thought twice before speaking. Especially when they're alone, and hiding in a remote corner of the plantation.

“Oh my god,” Jongdae laughs, and laughs like he hasn't in days, probably _weeks_ , with little tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and his abs almost hurting from the effort. “I meant a different variety.”

Yixing finally manages to swallow and breathe before straightening himself back up, smiling half flushed at Jongdae.

“You have a gorgeous smile,” Yixing says, and suddenly it's time for Jongdae to choke and blush. He isn't used to people complimenting him, apart from the older women that work on the plantation, and that doesn't count because they're all basically his adopted grandmas.

“Sorry, I didn't mean... That was unprofessional,” Yixing backtracks, and takes a step back. “Sorry for freaking out the other day, too.”

“No, it's okay,” Jongdae blurts out, and winces. “I mean. I should be the one apologizing, with all that stuff about dying. I was the one that made you freak out.”

“It's okay.” Yixing licks his lips, and takes the last bite of the banana into his mouth in a poor attempt to hide his smile.

“I was kind of insensitive. I _am_. I guess I was trying to apologize with this instead of using my words,” Jongdae gestures at the banana and chuckles, embarrassed. “I take it you're better?”

“I am,” Yixing mutters, and swallows before cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. “I was already fine when I left last time, no need to worry.”

“Oh? But you never came back?”

“Yeah, speaking of that.” Yixing opens the dreaded yellow folder, and Jongdae groans. “I have a new plan to sell your bananas as a premium item, after all they're a higher quality, we might as well charge extra for it.”

Jongdae closes his eyes and sighs before walking around Yixing and back in the warehouse's direction. Why did he even try to bury the hatchet if he comes back in full force with his corporate bullshit.

“No, listen! This way, you wouldn't have to deliver so many of them, only enough to meet a small demand—”

“ _Not. Interested,_ ” Jongdae punctuates as he speeds up. “How many times do I need to repeat myself.”

“You will be able to keep all your current clients— wait!” Yixing pants out far behind, and Jongdae stops on his tracks and looks around. “Please, wait. I don't know how to go back.”

Jongdae clicks his tongue. He was walking too fast for Yixing to catch up, apparently, but waiting for him means listening to his annoying attempts to sell whatever deal he has now to offer. He waits, though, looking away to avoid the conversation, and doesn't resume walking until Yixing finally reaches his side, this time at a much slower speed.

“You won't need to meet an steady demand if you find it too difficult under your current situation, we can even market it as a seasonal special if it's needed.”

Jongdae groans. The warehouse is not that far away, but still not in sight. He needs to make sure Yixing understands a _no_ this time.

“Listen. My bananas are not a _seasonal special_. They aren't a _premium item_ either. They're just. Bananas. _Fruits_.” His eyes meet Yixing's, willing himself not to waver. He really needs to get his point across once and for all.

Yixing opens his mouth to speak, but Jongdae doesn't let him. “Yes, I know. Great bananas, but bananas still. I could plaster a premium sticker on them and sell them at a much higher price, I know that too. And I'd earn a lot more money, but I'd also end up with half of my production rotting in the fields. So what? Should I do that and create a shortage in the market while I'm at it? Make the prices go up for _all_ bananas, not just mine?”

Yixing frowns, and a bead of sweat falls between his eyebrows and along the bridge of his nose. Once again, he's left short of words. It's so obvious to Jongdae that he doesn't have any experience in this field that it's physically painful. But Jongdae knows he isn't yelling this time so he doesn't feel any remorse in being clear, and this is probably in Yixing's best interest too, since his superiors are obviously not guiding him as they should.

Jongdae places his hands on his hips and sighs loudly, forcing himself to remain calm and not let things get heated like last time. “I don't know about you, but I believe that everyone should have access to good quality food, not just people that can pay for a shiny golden label on a banana. And, sometimes, that means that I'll get a little less economic benefits, but I sleep at night knowing that all my production goes to feeding people, not to waste. That feels a lot better that a fat number in a bank account, if you ask me.”

He doesn't wait for Yixing to answer, turning to stroll again towards the warehouse. There is nothing else to say. Yixing doesn't press it either, struggling to follow behind in his dirty leather shoes, as unprepared for this terrain as the owner himself.

He just offers a tight smile and a polite goodbye as soon as the green roof of the warehouse comes into sight, and disappears as easily as he came in the first place, leaving Jongdae to resume his fight against the tool hanger, and the many other tasks waiting for him before lunch time.

 

It isn't until much later, long after Yixing had left, and while he tirelessly works removing fallen and rotten plants under the showering rain in the outer sides of the plantation, that Jongdae realizes. Coming up with such a specific new plan to convince a single reluctant client might have been what kept Yixing away for so long.

 

 

* * *

 

 

With the daily orders already sent or on their way, afternoons are always calmer and less stressful. On top of that, the suffocating heat from the noon hours starts to subside as the sun leaves its highest spot in the sky, letting the plantation — and its workers — breathe again as the day ends.

For Jongdae, late afternoons are usually time for cleaning, checking the weather forecast and planning for the next few days on top of the usual work in the fields. Basically, making sure that the plantation can keep running one more day and unwind.

Most workers are already at home at this time, and the few that haven't left yet are outside in the fields, preparing the plantation for next day’s work. So, when Jongdae enters the warehouse ready to change his clothes and leave but finds Sehun inside, his heart doesn't skip a beat but directly jumps out of his mouth. He's so startled that he jumps back with a pathetic yelp and knocks his shoulder on the threshold, wincing at the sudden pain while trying to get his breath back.

Sehun doubles over and laughs, obviously, because he's that much of a little shit.

“Fuck, Sehun, I'm going to put a bell around your neck,” he snarls when he finally recovers.

“Sounds good to me,” Sehun agrees easily with a smile. “If I'm your pet you have to feed me for free.”

Jongdae collects himself and crosses the warehouse, leaving the rake on the (new) wall hanger. “I already feed you for free half of the time, don't try your luck.”

“Touché.” Sehun goes closer and fidgets a bit, waiting until Jongdae turns around and looks at him with a questioning look. “There's someone waiting for you in the office.”

“Uh?” Jongdae frowns. He wasn't expecting anyone, and his clients never come so late in the day. “Ugh, please tell me it's not Yixing.”

“Yixing? Ah! No...” Sehun trails his words and scratches the back of his neck, but doesn't explain further.

“It's okay, come with me. I have an errand for you.” Jongdae walks away, knowing that Sehun will follow.

The office is just a repurposed wooden shed attached to one side of the warehouse. They have to exit the warehouse and walk around it to find the door. Jongdae makes a mental note for the umpteenth time to look for a way to make a hole in the walls and connect both buildings, but he also knows he'll ignore it for another year. There's just a thousand other bigger priorities.

The wooden door creaks as it opens and they step into the tiny office, Jongdae first, Sehun right after. Everything inside looks cramped. There are way too many folders and accounting books on the shelves that cover the walls, and then a few more scattered on the desk. There's barely space to move, and the dust that floats in the air only reminds Jongdae that this room keeps empty and unused 99% of the time.

There's also a boy, not older than Sehun, sitting straight on the only chair Jongdae keeps for his clients, looking like a kid waiting to be disciplined in the principal's office. He has a nice tanned skin, and the sleepy eyes under his black bangs look up at Jongdae like an abandoned puppy.

“Hi. Um. Hello, nice to meet you, sir.” The kid trips over his own words and immediately stands up, clearly nervous. “I'm Kim Jongin. Jongin Kim, I mean.” Jongdae is momentarily taken aback by how tall he is — almost as much as Sehun, who's opted for standing awkwardly against the threshold.

“Nice to meet you too, Jongin. I'm Jongdae.” He offers the boy a handshake and walks around the table to plop down on his desk chair. “So, did you want to talk to me about anything or...?”

“I want to work here,” Jongin blurts out, but he sounds determined despite the nervousness in his voice. “I—I heard you were looking for laborers.”

Jongdae clicks his tongue and scans him, hesitantly. He's still standing at the other side of the desk, and he looks capable, _strong_ , but really young, and that's a double-edged sword — Sehun is the living proof of that. “How old are you?”

“I'm seventeen, sir,” he says, careful, and adds, “but I have experience.”

Jongdae frowns. “What experience?” Because there's only so much you can do as a teenager, he knows better than anyone.

“I've worked in a banana farm before, where I used to live, but I inherited my grandma's old house and I need a new job if I'm going to move here,” Jongin explains, and then he adds, more resolute, “I'm good at it, you can see for yourself. You don't even need to pay me for the first day.”

Jongdae's eyebrows shoot up at that. “You're still in high school though, aren't you?”

“I can work full time, if that's what worries you,” Jongin spits defensively, and Jongdae has to fight a smile. Oh, the frigid wind of teen rebellion.

“No, that's not what I asked. Answer my question.”

Jongin splutters and backtracks, startled by his own outburst, and visibly slumps. “I'm not in high school. I dropped out last year so I could get a proper job.”

There it is. Jongdae clicks his tongue and drums his fingers on the table in thought before speaking again. “Okay, so here's what we're going to do. You're going to tell me where you worked before so I can call and ask if you're as good as you say—”

“Yes, of course!” Jongin interrupts, and starts searching his pockets, pulling out a small notebook. Jongdae decides to just continue.

“...And you're going to give me your new address so we can go have a look at the state of the house. I bet you're talking about that old cottage up the hill that's about to fall to pieces.”

Jongin freezes and stares, amazed, like he can't believe his ears, but quickly snaps back to reality, handing over a piece of paper with a phone number. Jongdae takes it, saving it in his pocket for later.

“If you're telling the truth and you're an experienced worker, you'll have no problem. I'm always happy to have fresh meat around here.”

Jongin beams, grinning so hard that his cheeks almost make his eyes disappear.

“But you're going back to school.” Because Jongdae knows how hard working and studying at the same time is, but he also knows how important having some kind of education is. He knows how easy and natural it feels, getting an adult job and suddenly starting an adult life and forgetting that you're still a teenager. And he _knows_ how much he's regretted over the years not having tried a bit harder when he was younger, brighter, and getting his diploma before the plantation slowly invaded his entire life and occupied all his thoughts.

Jongin slumps, smile faltering. “But—but I won't be able to work in the mornings and that's always the time with the heaviest work—”

“That's not a problem.” Jongdae looks down and starts searching through the folders on his desk. “Sehun right here works during the day and attends the adult education program in the evenings.”

Jongin turns around, staring at Sehun as if he just realized that he was there too. Sehun leans further against the threshold and looks down at his feet, unusually bashful. Probably just self-conscious for attending adult school? Who knows what goes inside his head.

“What if I don't want to?” Jongin turns to look again at Jongdae.

“Then I won't hire you.”

“I—I was just asking,” Jongin rushes to say, startled by Jongdae's quick response. “I do want the job.”

“Good. Write me down your address and come back in the morning. We start at 7.”

“Yes, sir, I'll be here,” Jongin beams, taking his notebook out again and writing the address fast, handing Jongdae another piece of paper.

“See you tomorrow, then.” Jongdae opens one of the desk's drawers and finally finds the folder he was looking for. “Sehun, come here.”

Sehun walks closer, awkwardly scooting next to Jongin and around the desk, and takes the folder in his hands. Jongin observes the exchange, motionless across the desk and looking out of place.

“You can leave now, we have other stuff to take care of,” Jongdae prompts, hoping to give Jongin a dignified exit so he doesn't leave even more nervous than he arrived. And then remembers what the boy said earlier. “Just an advice, Jongin. You shouldn't offer free labor like that, there are plenty of people that will take advantage of you if you let them.”

Jongin frowns, momentarily confused. “Hm? Ah... Yes, thank you, I'll take it into account. Thank you for your time, sir.”

The boy quickly scrambles to leave, closing the door behind himself, and Jongdae is left to explain Sehun where he needs to deliver the documents in the folder. It's an easy task, and it's on the school's way, so Sehun doesn't mind, even if he groans and complains.

 _How different two same-age teenagers can be_ , Jongdae thinks, and can't help but smile to himself, because both of them remind him of his teenager self in some way. Hard-working, rebellious, stubborn, and completely lost in all areas of life.

And maybe because of that very reason, after calling Jongin's previous employer and hearing about how sad they were after losing such a good laborer, Jongdae decides the next morning that putting Sehun temporarily in charge of Jongin is the best idea. He can show Jongin around, get him to know the plantation and open up to the other workers, and luckily some of Jongin's work ethic will rub off on Sehun at some point too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yixing is more of an early bird than Jongdae himself, he discovers one sunny, dry morning after allowing himself to oversleep past dawn.

It hasn't rained in the last two weeks, and the air feels unbearably dusty as Jongdae steps out of his truck right outside the warehouse. Even though the humidity always sticks uncomfortably to his skin, this is much worse. His eyes itch, his skin crawls, and he notices how his lips get chapped in real time.

But there he is, stoic, in his perfectly ironed dark grey suit pants and his white shirt with the sleeves perfectly rolled up and more buttons open than what can be considered business-appropriate, leaning against the shiny hood of his, presumably, company car.

Jongdae sighs and walks inside without paying him a glance. But, of course, Yixing follows him, and Jongdae would sigh if he didn't just see something inside even more exasperating. Or, rather, _someone_.

“No, nononono, you can't be here! Get out!” Jongdae shrieks and runs to cover the notebook open on one of the tables. “Sehun, quick, take this list of clients to the office!”

“Am I your assistant now?” He grumbles, but Jongin rushes to take the notebook and close it against his chest, startled by the yelling.

Junmyeon chuckles and scoots closer, walking slowly across the (still) empty center of the huge room. “You can't kick me out, this is a public establishment.”

“You mean I shouldn't, I certainly can,” Jongdae snarls. “And you'll be whatever I need you to be.” He points one finger to Sehun, who sneers and crosses his arms. Jongin is the one who reacts once again, visibly flinching and running with the notebook out the door and, presumably, towards the office.

“What are you going to do? Get G.I. Joe over there to drag me outside?”

Sehun laughs, proud of being called _that buff_ even if it was meant as an insult, and laughs even harder when Jongdae glares at him in an attempt to make him shut up.

“You know I can perfectly manhandle you on my own,” Jongdae bites back at Junmyeon with a half smile.

“Uh, kinky.” Junmyeon smirks. “You have my number if you need to booty call, no need to announce it to the totality of your staff.”

Jongdae can hear a few snickers from behind and decides that he's let Junmyeon play around enough for one day.

“Don't hold your breath waiting for that booty call, dear. I don't want to be accused of involuntary manslaughter.” The workers at his back outright laugh this time, and Jongdae smiles, pleased with himself. Jongdae 1, Junmyeon 0. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Espionage work?”

“Why would I spy on you? My bananas are bigger than yours.”

“Oh, size isn't that important, baby, I would've thought you'd already grown out of that _little_ complex of yours.” Jongdae says, punctuating the _little_ , and the laughs at his back grow louder.

Junmyeon chuckles and looks away in defeat, sighing. “I just want a cutting of that mint plant in your backyard... mine died.”

“ _Again?_ ” Jongdae groans and rubs his face against his hands. Junmyeon is unbelievable. “What are you watering it with? Salt?”

“Don't shame me, okay? I don't know!”

“I honestly don't understand how you can keep five acres of banana trees alive and kill a mint plant,” Jongdae deadpans. “It's basically weeds, Myeon, that shit grows next to the road.”

Junmyeon looks away and huffs. He knows Jongdae is right, it's written on his face. “Are you going to give me some or not?”

Jongdae sighs. “Yeah, but do me a favor— Yixing, would you come here?”

Yixing blinks, confused after hearing his name being called. He glances between Jongdae and Junmyeon some, and then walks hesitantly towards the former.

“Who's this?” Junmyeon gives Yixing a once over and looks back at Jongdae, smirking. “Your new boy toy?”

“That implies I had a boy toy before.” Jongdae's eyebrows shoot up, and Junmyeon's face goes bright red. Game, set, match. “Anyway, you should make him an offer, he has a plantation too,” he suggests to Yixing, gesturing at Junmyeon. “You'll probably have a lot more luck than here.”

“I only want your bananas,” Yixing says easily without a second thought, and Jongdae _almost_ goes red too. He's lucky he's used to the constant double meanings. He hopes for a fraction of a second that no one else noticed it, but Junmyeon's hand over his mouth tells otherwise.

“I think I'm a third wheel here,” Junmyeon teases, hiding his laugh, and starts rushing towards the door just as Jongin comes back empty handed. “Just put the mint in a glass with water or something and I'll come by to pick it up later, I was actually on my way to town.”

He disappears through the gate in the blink of an eye and Jongdae huffs, closing his eyes, because the last thing he needs is the unabashedly mocking face of Sehun. Trust Junmyeon to ridicule Jongdae and leave before he can get back at him.

The workers behind him stop their snickering after a few seconds, finally, and Jongin prompts Sehun to go find something to do, so they leave too without a word. Bless that kid. Jongdae is so happy he hired him.

The warehouse clears in a minute, everyone getting to their own tasks and forgetting the whole exchange, and Jongdae finally moves from his spot. He has a thousand things to do later, but he should go pick that cutting from his mint plant before he forgets.

The downside is that he can't just drive back home, because the workers are probably already loading the truck of his car with boxes for delivery. Walking it is.

Jongdae changes into his work clothes as fast as he can and leaves through the back door. His house is right at the opposite side of the plantation, and crossing it is a lot faster than walking by the road. Also, more relaxing, since no one else is in there at this time of the day.

The humidity hits him in the face as soon as he starts walking between the plants, and his skin is grateful. He can even blink without feeling like his eyelids will rip his corneas off. Even so, the air is not as humid as it should due to the lack of raining. It's worrying, really.

“So, that was the owner of another plantation?”

Jongdae didn't notice Yixing following him, but he should have expected it at this point in their 'relationship'. He's always there, and Jongdae can't wrap his mind around how he does it.

“Yeah, go pester him, I'll give you his address.” Jongdae turns and swiftly crosses a row of trees. Yixing easily keeps up; he's getting better at moving around the plantation. “I don't even need to write it down for you, it's just down the road.”

“But you're friends, right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jongdae mutters, and looks ahead. They're about halfway through. “It's a bit more complicated.”

“He's your ex,” Yixing deadpans, and it's not a question but an statement.

Jongdae stops in his tracks. _Is it so obvious?_

“Sorry, not my business,” Yixing backtracks, his voice faltering from behind Jongdae's back.

Jongdae resumes walking. _Exactly, not his business. And who cares if he noticed._

Yixing clears his throat and Jongdae has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, because he _knows_ what's coming. “Okay, so rebranding the bananas as a premium product was off the mark. I completely trashed that idea.”

“Good.”

“But—!” Yixing continues, excited, and Jongdae stops between the plants for the second time, fake whining and stomping on the ground. Why won't Yixing just give up? “—What would you think about a small distribution, really spread out in our many supermarkets? Because that'd fulfill your goal of making sure everyone has access to good quality bananas, but it wouldn't be detrimental towards your plantation or your current clients.”

Jongdae groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, willing Yixing to stop talking. His idea sounds really thought out this time, Jongdae has to give him that, but the answer is the same. “No.”

Yixing smiles as if he hadn't just been rejected once again. He was probably expecting it, of course. “Any reason? Or just _'no'_?”

“Just _no_ , Yixing. I don't care enough to explain anymore.” Jongdae groans. And he really wants to get mad at him, because he's _unrelenting_ , and Jongdae can't be any more clear but, suddenly, there is a loud crackling followed by a hissing sound and his skin feels _wet_.

The sprinklers are going off. Obviously. Because it's the time they're programmed to go off.

It's like a plantation-sized shower, there's water literally _everywhere_. A rainbow starts forming above their heads. Yixing's flawlessly styled hair becomes flat, sticking to his forehead in the matter of seconds, and he looks _so_ confused as to what's going on, looking around and at his own soaked clothes, that Jongdae bursts out laughing.

And Yixing joins him, with his eyes crinkling in little crescents and those amazing dimples appearing on his cheeks, because Jongdae probably looks just as ridiculous as him.

Jongdae isn't sure why he suddenly feels self-conscious and brushes his wet curls off his face, but he doesn't have time for that right now. He takes Yixing's hand in his without a second thought, tugging hard enough to drag him, and runs along rows of palm trees as fast as their feet let them, stepping on damp brown leaves and splashing mud up to their ankles.

It doesn't take long until his house comes into view, right by the end of the plantation. They stop running as soon as they step in the open, half panting and half laughing, finally out of the sprinklers' reach.

The house is just a few meters away, an old wooden one story painted in white and light brown, although the paint has seen better days. The walls have all several grid windows with the shutters open to let the light in, and a few windows are slightly open to air the rooms too.

They plop down and sit on the wooden planks of the back porch, droplets of water falling everywhere. Yixing's white shirt is so wet it's almost see-through at this point, and his suit pants stick to his skin, hugging his thighs. Spandex would be less revealing, to be honest.

Jongdae immediately springs up again. “Wait here, I'll get you a towel.”

It's difficult to walk inside the house in his state without leaving a trail of water and muddy footsteps, even after leaving his boots on the porch, but that's a problem for his future self.

Jongdae decides against going into his bedroom and heads to the laundry room in the corner of the kitchen — there are enough towels and dry clothes in there, waiting to be folded and put away. He changes quickly into a dry t-shirt and a pair of old ripped jeans, and decides to leave his only clean work overalls for Yixing, because he's a bit taller ( _isn't he?_ ) and he'll need the extra leg length. And maybe there's also some part of him that wants to make fun of the contrast with Yixing's suited up self.

Jongdae's smug smile falters as he steps out on the porch, though, immediately forgetting about his intentions to make fun of anyone. Yixing is running a hand through his hair, trying to get rid of the excess of water, and the droplets fall _directly_ onto his bare skin, slowly trailing down to the seam of his pants, because he has his soaked shirt crumpled in a ball in his other hand.

Jongdae's mouth goes dry as his eyes move on their own accord over the planes of Yixing's back, up to his broad shoulders and strong arms, and then back down to his narrow waist, where it disappears under the wet suit pants.

Yixing turns around, revealing the defined chest and abs that the formal shirts hid so well for _weeks_.

Jongdae is suddenly aware of the fact that he's gaping and melting against the threshold and pulls himself out of his daydreaming.

“Here,” he clears his throat, handing Yixing a clean towel. “I brought you clothes to change, too.”

“Thanks,” Yixing smiles. He didn't notice the staring, _nice_. He towels his hair first, then his upper body, and starts undoing his belt.

“You can go inside to change, if you want,” Jongdae rushes to offer.

“It's okay,” Yixing chuckles, struggling to peel the soaked pants off. “I've seen you in your underwear, I think it's only fair.”

Jongdae opts for looking away and into the horizon as basic courtesy. He isn't sure if being polite is really worth it this time, though.

“How do you wear this?” Yixing struggles trying to wear the upper part of the green overalls. One arm is stuck, the other is bending in an impossible angle in an attempt to find the arm hole. It's a size too small. Even his ankles are peeking under the seam of the trouser legs.

Jongdae chuckles, and Yixing gives up with a sigh, casually tying the long sleeves around his waist. The white t-shirt is a bit too small too, hugging his chest and his biceps just that much. He looks like a _fucking model_ in work clothes, what the fuck.

“You look a lot better in my work clothes,” Jongdae says without thinking, and blinks. He might be internally losing his shit, but his face will look unaffected even if that's the last thing he does.

“You look better in casual clothes too,” Yixing gestures to Jongdae’s ripped tight jeans, and then smirks while adding, “but I already knew that.”

Jongdae wonders if the permanent tan on his skin is concealing the blush on his cheeks, and decides to divert the topic before his face grows warmer. “This is the first time I get caught in there when the sprinklers go off, just so you know how much you distract me.” He facepalms internally and clarifies, “From my work.”

Yixing grins, all dimples, as if Jongdae just said something good. “I do?”

He sits on the porch and takes a shoe on his hand, pouting. It's as soaked as the rest of his clothes.

Jongdae seizes the opportunity to step away from their awkward conversation and runs back inside, finding a pair of spare boots that he never uses — they're two sizes bigger, probably Sehun's. He takes a pair of socks from the laundry room while he's there too.

“Thank you,” Yixing says again as Jongdae leaves everything by his side. “To be honest, I was wondering why it was so humid inside the plantation when it hasn't been raining lately.” He chuckles as he ties one boot around his ankle. “I guess I got an answer before I had the chance to ask.”

“Yeah, they need a lot of water, especially under this heat.” Jongdae scratches the back of his neck, standing awkwardly on the porch. He should be working, he remembers. He'll need at least one extra hour on the afternoon to catch up.

“You really love the plantation, don't you?”

Jongdae looks down and his eyes meet Yixing's, who is smiling at him as he finishes tying the second boot.

“It's my life,” Jongdae replies matter-of-factly, and smiles back. He lives there, he works there, all the people he knows are always there too. There's nothing else in his life, and he doesn't really have time for anything else either, but it's okay. He's grateful.

Yixing stands up wiping his hands against the legs of the overalls, and Jongdae can't help but think that he's mirroring a gesture he's seen about half a dozen times. “I probably bothered you enough for one day, I should leave.”

Jongdae blinks; he wasn't expecting that at all. He opens his mouth to speak, but Yixing is faster.

“I think I can go back on my own, don't worry about me.” He gestures vaguely across the plantation, pointing in the warehouse's direction. The sprinklers have already stopped. “It's that way, right?”

Jongdae knows he should make him wait while he picks some mint for Junmyeon and go back together. It would be the right thing to do. Walking alone inside the plantation is the easiest way to get lost when you're still unfamiliar with it.

Instead, Jongdae just nods, too confused to oppose him, and sees Yixing disappear with wet clothes in his hand between palm trees and under wide, green leaves, walking awkwardly in boots a size or two too big for his feet that no one cares if mud sticks to them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jongin's grandma's old house was, just as Jongdae had thought, the little cottage right on the hillside, and it turned out, after some inspection, that the house was in a much better state than what it looked from the outside. Even water and electricity were working without any problems despite being such and old building. Jongdae never asked, but he assumed that Jongin's grandma had lived there until recently, and Jongin's decision to move was probably made right after she passed away.

The only things that looked urgent were changing the locks (because they were old and definitely not safe enough for a teen living alone), repainting the main rooms, and fixing a few wall plugs that weren't working, most probably because rats chewed on the cables and they needed to be replaced.

So, the first weekend after Jongin arrived, Jongdae headed up there with a few cans of white paint, a truck filled with tools, wires and brushes, and a few workers that wanted to help out because, apparently, Jongin evoked that feeling of protectiveness in other people too.

 

The morning goes by easily, drinking iced coffee and eating pastries that someone brought from home before getting on with the heavy work.

Kyungsoo, one of the workers, leaves the group soon enough with a toolbox under his arm and busies himself unscrewing the lock in the front door. Sehun and Jongin hurry to cover all the furniture and the wooden floors so they won't get paint stains. Chanyeol, another worker, looks for the switch board to cut the electricity. Jongdae takes post on the front yard in the meantime, readying wires and brushes and rollers and paint cans.

It's a great way to spend a lazy Saturday, joking around with each other and enjoying the breeze that goes through the open windows. After all, all of them are used to physical labor, so these tasks just feel like a nice breath of fresh air.

“The house is pretty empty,” Sehun points out as they eat in an improvised picnic on the back yard's grass.

Jongin looks down, half embarrassed, and takes another bite off his sandwich. “I don’t need much more,” he shrugs.

“No, of course you need stuff to live comfortably here, kid.” Chanyeol retorts. “I think I might have some stuff for you in my attic.”

“It’s okay, really.” Jongin smiles, trying to end the topic.

“We should throw a housewarming party or something,” Sehun adds, and they all turn their heads to him, because he never suggests anything that requires any work from himself.

“I have a bunch of old curtains that you could use,” Kyungsoo mutters around his sandwich. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“I mean, it would be great, but I don’t know enough people to throw a party,” Jongin shrugs.

“Kid, you’re part of the family now, leave that in our hands,” Chanyeol leans closer to Jongin, patting him in the back reassuringly.

“Then it’s settled.” Jongdae smiles and stands up, stretching and getting ready to go back to work. “We have to make good use of the low season, so this weekend? Tell everyone to bring stuff for the house and food and drinks for the party.”

 

The afternoon goes by as fast as the morning. Jongdae sets the last handful of tools on the trunk of the car after they’re finally done, and Jongin almost topples the toolbox as he runs by, chasing Sehun with a paintbrush in his hand and half of his face painted white. Their clothes are completely splattered in paint. Jongdae smiles and closes the trunk's door. It feels nice watching Sehun playing around with someone his age, for once.

“Stop that for a second and come here,” Jongdae gestures Jongin to come closer. The whole place reeks of paint fumes, it’s obvious that he won’t be able to stay inside the house this night. “The paint won't dry until tomorrow, you shouldn't sleep here with this smell in the air. Do you have a place to go for tonight?”

“Um. Actually, Sehun asked me the same thing earlier.” Jongin says sheepishly. “I'll spend the night at his house.”

“Oh, is that it?” He was ready to offer his own house, but it seems that Sehun is finally learning some courtesy and even thinking a little bit about others, and not only about himself. Jongdae smiles, proud of the boy. “Have fun then.” He closes the trunk of the car, ready to leave, but turns to Sehun and adds, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It finally rains on Monday.

Jongdae's body is still sore from the weekend's extra work, limbs aching every time he reaches for anything on a shelf higher than his head. He doesn't care, though, because after so many days of unforgiving sun, being able to breathe without feeling the air immediately drying his throat feels kind of refreshing. The heat is also gone, replaced by a fresh humidity floating in the air like invisible mist.

The warehouse is almost empty so early in the afternoon, and the few workers that have already returned from their lunch break aren't doing much yet. Not that there's a lot to do when it's pouring outside.

Jongdae is just sitting on a table, flipping through the folder with last month's receipts and making sure that everything has been paid and they're on top of things. He has enough things to stress about, but payments won't be one.

“Um. Jongdae?” Jongin sounds hesitant somewhere behind him.

Jongdae smiles to himself. This is the first time Jongin's called him by his first name, _finally_. He puts aside the heavy folder beside him on the table and looks up. “Yes?”

“You have a visitor.” Jongin gestures to his side with a jerk of his head.

Ah. _Of course_. Yixing is there, wearing his shirt properly today, with the sleeves down to his wrists and all the buttons but one appropriately buttoned up, and a matching suit jacket over it. The professional look is back. Jongdae wants to groan. But he's in a great condition today, even if he's extremely tired, and nothing is going to change that.

Yixing comes closer, his yellow folder in one hand and a big paper bag in the other. He stops at a prudential distance, back completely straight in a perfect stance. “Good afternoon, Mr. Kim.”

Jongdae snorts. _Mr. Kim_. He's seen Yixing almost naked just a few days ago, all these formalities feel weird to say the least. “Hi. Is that for me?”

Yixing licks his lips and nods hesitantly, his professional facade faltering for a second, and hands him the paper bag.

Jongdae takes a peek inside and tries not to smile as he sees his spare boots and green overalls. “Jongin, would you take these to the office?”

Jongin nods and hurriedly picks the receipts folder and the bag in his arms, leaving through the front door of the warehouse in the blink of an eye.

“You're lucky, I'm in a good mood today,” Jongdae says, jumping down from the table to the floor, and starts walking towards the back door. Weirdly enough, Yixing doesn't following him immediately as he always does, so Jongdae stops midway and turns to smile at him. “Come with me, I have something interesting to show you.”

It's still showering outside, and the whole place looks like a minefield of puddles. Jongdae takes pity on Yixing's shoes and zigzags his way around them, stepping on the places where he knows that rocks lay underneath and the ground is more solid. Yixing's pulled his suit jacket over his head in a poor attempt to protect his perfectly gelled hair and is doing his best to catch up, but Jongdae still has to wait for him a few times before they reach the end of the dirt path.

When they finally arrive to the small shed, Jongdae unlocks the door and rushes Yixing to go inside so he won't get more wet. Jongdae doesn't care that much. After closing the door behind himself, he just shakes his head like a puppy to get rid of the water on his curly hair, and Yixing steps back to dodge the water droplets flying everywhere.

“What are we doing here?”

Yixing stands in the center of the shed, looking around and fiddling with his yellow folder on top of the table. It's a rather small room, with shelves up to the ceiling filled to the brim with boxes and all kinds of things, and a tiny window in the wall opposite to the door. There's also a plastic table with a few chairs. There isn't much in here, but the space is so tiny that it looks crowded, and the fact that it's raining so hard outside only makes it feel smaller.

“You'll see.” Jongdae turns on the light bulb that hangs from the ceiling and starts searching around on the shelf at his right. “Take a seat.”

Yixing complies. Jongdae hopes he won't take the chance to open his yellow folder on the table.

“Thank you for lending me your clothes the other day,” Yixing says, taking advantage of the fact that Jongdae can't see his face. “It was my fault that we got caught under the sprinklers, but you still helped me.”

“Don't mention it.” Jongdae finally finds the bottle he was looking for inside a wooden box on the floor. He takes two shot glasses from it too. “You didn't get lost, right? I'm proud of you.” Jongdae smiles, teasing, and sets everything on the table as he sits across Yixing.

“What is this?”

Jongdae opens the cork in the bottle and pours two shots of the yellowish liquid, pushing one of them in front of Yixing. He downs the other one without a word, and raises an eyebrow expectantly at Yixing.

“Is this alcohol?” Yixing takes the shot glass in his hand and inspects it against the light of the bulb. “I'm here for work. You know that, right?”

Jongdae sighs. “This is my workplace too. Just drink it. It's really mild, I promise.”

Yixing squints at Jongdae, but in the end decides to put the glass against his lips and take a small sip. He blinks and opens his eyes wide, smiling and pushing the rest of the liquid inside his mouth. “What is this? It tastes like bananas!”

“It's great, right?” Jongdae grins, and pours other two shots. “Banana liqueur. I made it myself.”

“You made it?” Yixing repeats, surprised.

“Yeah, I had a bad batch last year and decided to experiment a bit.” Jongdae gives Yixing his full glass back and drinks his own in one gulp again. “So, do you like it?”

“Um, yes. It tastes amazing.” Yixing puts his fingers around the glass, but doesn't raise it from the table.

Jongdae smiles, satisfied, and almost misses the way Yixing looks down at the glass in deep thought for a few seconds.

“Have you...” Yixing sighs, and tries again. “Have you considered the offer I made you last time?” He looks up, and Jongdae meets his eyes with a blank stare. “You know, the small, spread out distribution.”

“No, Yixing, I haven't,” Jongdae deadpans. He doesn't even feel bad anymore when he rejects Yixing's offers. It's like one more chore in the plantation: harvesting, planting, cleaning, rejecting Yixing.

“Yeah, I figured that.” Yixing's face falls for a second, almost imperceptible, before he pours the whole shot into his mouth. “I suck at selling deals, don't I?”

“What? No.” Jongdae smiles, dumbfounded. Someone as persistent as Yixing? He doesn't understand how he can doubt himself. “No, you're not bad at your job. You're actually really good.”

Yixing sneers, incredulous, and slumps on the table, almost knocking the glass over. “I'm not, I can't even convince you to listen to my proposals.”

“But you force me to listen anyway.” Jongdae chuckles. He can remember each and every different offer Yixing has brought over the past few weeks, because he just won't shut up no matter how much Jongdae tries to ignore him. “You're not going to ever convince me though.”

“I know!” Yixing groans. “See? I just don't have it in me. I don't know how long it will take them to fire me.”

“No, I really mean it, I'm not going to sign it no matter what,” Jongdae says, and Yixing hides his face in his arms. He's not making it better. Jongdae sighs, wondering if he's going to regret his next words. Probably not, it's something Yixing needs to hear from someone. “Look, if there was any chance of me signing that contract, you'd have already convinced me. You're really good at your job. You listen very well. Every time you show up, you come with answers to any objections I mentioned the previous day. You're a good negotiator, and very creative finding new solutions. If they fire you, it's their loss, not yours. Remember that.”

Yixing picks himself up from the table and looks at him in awe.

“But you can't convince me,” Jongdae points out before he can get his hopes up. “It's against my principles, and I'm far from desperate to put them aside for more money that I don't really need.”

Yixing sighs and nods, leaning back on his chair and looking away. “I mean... I can understand that.”

“Now, can we talk about something different? Other than this stupid offer or your company.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know.” Jongdae shrugs and pours two more shots, because it's raining even harder outside and basically because it tastes good. Also, why not. They both deserve a rest. “What do you do when you're not pestering me to sign that damn deal?”

Yixing sulks again, his gaze falling to the floor.

“That was supposed to be a joke.” Jongdae grimaces, and pushes Yixing's glass in front of him once again. “...So do you have any hobbies?”

He takes the glass and drinks it without second thoughts this time, licking his fingers afterwards to clean the liquid that spilled on them. “I like dancing.”

“Dancing?” Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up. He wasn't expecting that _at all_. “Like... ballroom dancing? Or boy band choreography dancing?”

“More like boy band, to be fair,” Yixing laughs, embarrassed. “But I can do Latin dances too.”

An intrusive image of Yixing moving his hips invades Jongdae's mind, but he quickly dismisses it as he drinks his own shot. “Oh really? That's interesting.”

“I can dance with you sometime, if you want,” Yixing easily suggests, as if it's nothing.

“Oh no, I have two left feet. But I do want to see you dance.” Jongdae tries, because he isn't sure if Yixing is flirting or he's just that unfazed about rubbing his body against another man's, and he's too curious to let it be.

Yixing laughs. He looks embarrassed. _Good_.

Jongdae smirks, and presses a bit further just to see how far he can go. “Will you dance for me?”

“What, right now?”

“Yeah, do you have anything better to do?”

Yixing stutters, looking around. It’s still raining outside, if the sounds on the roof are anything to go by, and Jongdae is pretty sure that visiting the plantation is his only task for the whole afternoon.

“There isn't enough space, and no music.”

“Oh, that's something with an easy solution.” Jongdae stands up, smiling, and pushes the bottle and the shot glasses into Yixing's hands so he can fold the table. “This is a storage shed, everything is foldable in case we need the extra space.”

Jongdae smiles to himself as Yixing opens his mouth to say something but closes it again. He has no excuse to refuse, unless he's too embarrassed to do it. He takes the bottle and the glasses from Yixing and puts them on a shelf, and then takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to Yixing.

“Here, choose the song you want.” Jongdae sits on his chair again, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

Yixing laughs in disbelief as he taps on the phone and gives it back to Jongdae. “Ahhh... I can't believe I'm doing this. Okay, fine, why not.” He cracks his neck and starts to unbutton his shirt with ease, showing a white tight undershirt.

“Woah, woah, slow down!” Jongdae jokes, leaning forward and almost springing up from his chair. “I only asked you to dance, not for a lap dance.”

Yixing stares for a second and smirks at him. “You wish. I just don't want to rip my shirt.”

Jongdae snorts. “Relax there, Hulk.”

Yixing sneers and gestures with a nod of his head. “Press play.”

The song starts playing, and Jongdae immediately recognizes it. Bruno Mars' 24K Magic, coincidentally one of his favorites. Yixing stretches his back and shakes his legs around, avoiding eye contact and making time while the song intro plays but, as soon as the verse comes, all traces of shyness fade away in an instant.

He looks almost like a different person, full of confidence as he moves swiftly to the rhythm of the music. His body flows with ease, alternating between powerful thrusts and smooth, slower rolls of his body and hips. His face is focused too, a determined expression that makes Jongdae's stomach churn the few times Yixing dares to look into Jongdae's eyes. Jongdae wonders if he's improvising or dancing a practiced routine, because every move looks so spontaneous but so tight at the same time, matching the song so well, that both answers sound ridiculous and obvious at the same time.

Yixing doesn't finish the song. He stops at some point after the chorus, taking the phone from Jongdae to press pause and staring down at him, half embarrassed, as if he were waiting for appraisal or some kind of answer.

Jongdae looks up into Yixing's eyes and, for the first time since they arrived, he notices the strong metallic smell of the rain hanging in the air. He swallows as the music fades away and is replaced by the ringing noise of the rain falling against the shed's roof, and belatedly realizes that he's blushing, but that's because of the shots, even if there's almost no alcohol content in them.

Just in case, he stands up and pours two more on the shelf where he had left them earlier. He doesn't want to look affected, that would be embarrassing. Yixing will blush too if he drinks a little bit more, probably, and then he'll understand why Jongdae blushed without arriving to weird conclusions.

Also, Yixing is kind of cute when he's flustered, Jongdae remembers.

He almost topples his own glass trying to shake the thought away.

Yixing sits again on his chair and takes the glass in his hand, looking at it hesitantly. “Okay... I'll drink this one. But if we aren't going to talk business, I should go back to the office and finish some stuff...”

Jongdae knows that he's drawling the sentence on purpose, like expecting him to ask Yixing to stay longer. But Jongdae doesn't know what to say, because he's right, he doesn't have any reason to stay. And Jongdae obviously wants him to go because he's a nuance, even if they had fun for a short while... right?

Yixing suddenly stands up with a tight smile on his face, breaking Jongdae's train of thought. He downs his last shot and buttons his shirt, forcing it back inside his pants as neatly as it was when he arrived to the plantation. “Thank you, I had a good time.”

Yixing opens the shed's door and leaves with his suit jacket over his head, running under the rain and splashing mud all over his shoes.

Alone in the shed, as the chill breeze makes its way through the door's hole, Jongdae wonders if Yixing really would have stayed longer if he had asked.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The heavy rain only lasted one day, but there's so much work to catch up on that Jongdae doesn't care about the strong midday sun and takes his shirt off, letting the sweat trickle freely down his spine.

It isn't a secret that Jongdae loves working in the fields. After all, he doesn't have any other reason to keep doing it. If he wanted, he could stay inside all year long, running everything from his office. But there's something about that manual labor, handling the plants and the bananas with his own hands, that makes him feel alive and at peace with himself.

For some reason, though, it isn't working today. No matter how hard he tries focusing on cutting down old banana plants to leave place for the younger stems to grow, Jongdae can't take his mind away from yesterday. It was weird, watching Yixing outside his professional role and talking about normal things. And watching him dance. Moving a body that well should be forbidden. If he closes his eyes, Jongdae can still see his hips rolling in slow motion. And how embarrassed he looked afterwards.

Jongdae fails to hit the trunk with his axe and misses cutting off his toes by an inch.

He gasps and jumps back, his heart pounding in his throat and threatening to jump out of his mouth, and lets the axe fall to the ground. _What the fuck_. He can't afford being so distracted.

“Good morning.”

Jongdae jumps again, startled by the voice behind his back, and puts a hand over his chest, trying to calm down his heartbeat with deep breaths. “What the fuck, Yixing.”

“Sorry, did I startle you?” Yixing stands in the middle of two rows of trees, impeccable as always with his half-opened white shirt and ironed suit pants and flawless hair, looking right out of a business magazine cover featuring the most influential man of 2017. He couldn't contrast more against his surroundings if he tried, and especially against sweaty, dirty, sunburned Jongdae. He wasn't expecting Yixing to be back so soon.

“How did you find me?” Jongdae looks around, but no one else is there. “And who let you in?”

“Those two tall boys... I think one of them was called Sehun?” Yixing presses his lips together and stares down at Jongdae, making him feel overly aware of the fact that he's half naked and covered in dirt and sweat. “Um. Is this a bad time?”

“No.” Jongdae clears his throat, reminding himself that he's supposed to be working. “I mean, yes.”

Yixing laughs. “So yes or no?”

“I'm always busy, it's never a good time,” Jongdae says convincingly, almost out of habit. It isn't a lie anyway. He just wants those dimples to go away and stop feeding his mind with distractions.

In any case, Jongdae knows he can't wield an axe while being so out of balance, so he might as well leave it for another day, or ask someone else to do it. He takes the axe in one hand and picks his discarded shirt with the other, throwing it over his shoulder, and starts walking away.

“I had to come back anyway.” Yixing picks up the pace easily, strolling at Jongdae's side instead of following at his back as he always does. “I ended up calling a taxi yesterday.”

Jongdae's eyebrows shoot up at that, but then he remembers that they did, indeed, drink a lot more than they should have, considering that Yixing had to drive right after. It was his own decision to leave so fast though, he could have stayed around a bit longer and waited for the alcohol to go away. They were having fun, there was no reason to rush out the door like that. “I'd say sorry, but I don't remember forcing you to drink.”

“No, I guess you didn't.” Yixing laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I brought it onto myself, didn't I?”

Jongdae makes a noncommittal sound, reaching into the pocket of his blue work pants for his keys as they arrive in front of the tools shed. The padlock is unlocked. He frowns, wondering if he forgot to lock the door earlier. “Don't you hate coming all the way here over and over again just to get a 'no' as an answer?”

“Honestly?” Yixing stands at his side, leaning against the shed, and tilts his head, watching Jongdae closely with a shy smile on his lips. “No, I don't. This is the highlight of my week.”

Jongdae blinks, flabbergasted, but before he has the chance to react to Yixing's words (or Yixing's dimples), his body acts out of habit and the hand around the handle pulls back and opens the door wide.

Jongdae's jaw drops even lower as he registers what he's seeing. Inside, Sehun and Jongin hastily pull away from each other with their own startled expressions. Jongin tries his best to smoothen his disheveled hair back down, hiding in the darkest corner of the storage room with his back against the door. Sehun scrambles to pick up his t-shirt from the floor and put it over his head as fast as he can, and opens his mouth to speak, but Jongdae cuts him.

“Out,” he commands with a firm voice, pointing with a finger towards the open field. “Now.”

Yixing muffles a snort against the back of his hand beside Jongdae, obviously amused by the whole scene.

The boys scurry out the door, avoiding looking into Jongdae's eyes, and start running until they reach the edges of the plantation, where they suddenly stop as if they were finally safe. Sehun pushes Jongin and they wrestle for a second, arguing playfully about who knows what until Jongin finally turns around to yell, “See you at my party!”

“NOW!” Jongdae repeats, and the boys giggle and run away, getting lost between the rows of banana plants.

Jongdae bends over from the strength of the laughter roaring out of his mouth. Wow, did he not see that coming.

Yixing smiles, and it suddenly down on Jongdae that what Jongin said was directed at him.

“Wait, you're going to Jongin's housewarming party?”

“He invited me earlier, but I probably shouldn't...” Yixing draws out, obviously testing the waters.

Jongdae wants to laugh. He isn't Yixing's dad to tell him if he can or can't go to a party. But he understands why he wouldn't go without his approval. He wants to agree, tell Yixing that he shouldn't, indeed, but on the other hand... it's Jongin's party, and he invited Yixing, so who's Jongdae to take that away from the poor kid?

“You should go,” Jongdae shrugs nonchalantly. “If you want, of course.”

Yixing beams. “Really? You don't mind?”

“Under one condition,” Jongdae points out, “you can't talk about deals, or your company, or anything even remotely related to that.” He turns his back to Yixing and finally enters the shed, looking for a place to leave his axe.

“Of course! A party is a party.” Yixing's voice sounds animatedly from outside.

“And you should bring Jongin something from the city that we can't find here in the valley.”

Jongdae closes the shed's door, making sure he locks the padlock this time, and starts walking away. He should at least get on paperwork if he isn't going to work on the plantation.

“So I've been thinking,” Yixing starts, easily following his pace, and Jongdae rolls his eyes. “I mean, I haven't discussed it yet with the higher-ups, but I think it would be a great idea—”

“No,” Jongdae tries to interrupt with little success.

“—to sell your liqueur in supermarkets. There is no product like that in stock right now, and I'm sure it would sell very well with the right marketing strategy.”

“I said _no_ ,” Jongdae scoffs mockingly. “I don't care about your vertical corp mentality or your fucking supermarkets, how many times do I need to repeat myself to get the message through your skull?”

“You know what, I'm tired of this.” Yixing snaps, stopping on his tracks. “It wouldn't hurt you being a little bit nicer to me. I know you're busy and stressed, but so am I.”

“What?” Jongdae laughs in disbelief, turning around to face Yixing. “What do you even know about life? You're a kid on his first job.”

Yixing huffs and sneers, incredulous. “Then what are you, a toddler managing his daddy's business?”

Jongdae frowns and backtracks, surprised by Yixing's outburst. He might have just hit a nerve, because this is the first time Yixing has dared to talk back, instead of being his usual docile self. Jongdae didn't even know Yixing had that side in himself.

“I'm tired of your bullshit. You own a _fucking plantation_ and you're giving me lessons about how capitalism is bad. Well, news flash, _Mr. Kim_ : I know,” Yixing spits out sarcastically. “I know, but I have to work to eat because I've never got a company with twenty employees fall from the sky and into my hands.”

Jongdae swallows dryly, carefully taking in his words. He's never really taken into account that Yixing is just an employee, and despite his apparent enthusiasm, he's just doing his job.

“Do you think I enjoy coming here every few days knowing that I'm going to be rejected again?” Yixing continues. “How do you think I feel the days I don't come but I spend all day trying to find a solution to whatever objections you had, convincing my superiors to make changes in how they run the company, a _fucking corporation_ , knowing that I'm going to come here just to receive a _'no'_ as an answer again? Do you think that's _fulfilling_?”

“I never meant to—” Jongdae tries, but Yixing is too worked up in his rant to stop talking now.

“I'd love to not be such a big nuisance to you, but I also want to keep my fucking job. It's not my fault that those two things are incompatible and only one of them puts food on my table.”

Jongdae is left out of words, opening his mouth and closing it back several times. He has no clue what he's supposed to say now. Everything that Yixing said is absolutely true, and he never even thought about it before.

Yixing looks at him expectantly before huffing, clearly giving up on receiving an answer. “I think it's for the best if I just leave for today, please think about my offer to sell the liqueur.”

And with that he leaves, stomping away and leaving Jongdae alone with his thoughts.

Jongdae immediately regrets being such an ass all the time. As he watches Yixing's back get smaller in the distance, he considers chasing him and stop him to apologize for his behavior, but Jongdae's stomach churns with nerves at the thought, and he takes it as a sign that, probably... that's a bad idea.

It's okay if Yixing hates him. After all, Jongdae wasn't even trying to be his friend. He sighs, and begins to stroll towards his office. Putting a distance between them is probably for the better.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun pulls over in front of Jongdae's house and turns off the car. Jongdae breathes, his whole body relaxing on the passenger's seat.

“I think you're finally ready for your driving test.” Jongdae releases the seat belt and smiles at Sehun.

“Of course I am,” he easily replies, smug smirk on his face. “So, when are you giving me this car? It prefers me to you, I can feel it.”

Jongdae roars with laughter. “Keep waiting, I'll eventually die, someday. You can have it then.” He steps out of the car, crouching down to peek through the passenger's side window. “You can stay over, if you want.”

Sehun smiles and exits the car too, walking around and following Jongdae to the house's front entrance. “Hm... What are you cooking for dinner?”

“ _I?_ ” Jongdae stops on the stairs to the porch and turns around. “You're helping me cook, I'm not your fucking maid.”

“Yeah, right.” Sehun giggles like the brat he is and pats Jongdae's back as they move towards the door. “So what are we cooking?”

“Lasagna.” Jongdae unlocks the door and they step inside, heading to the kitchen. “You chop the veggies, I'll do the rest.”

“Yes, sir!” Sehun mock-salutes and laughs. Jongdae takes a knife from a drawer and fakes stabbing Sehun, only making him laugh louder.

“I'm going to kill you for real one day, brat,” Jongdae says, putting the knife down on the counter, but there's no bite in his voice.

“You couldn't, you love me too much for that.” Sehun remarks, and Jongdae just smiles and shrugs, leaving the kitchen to pick all the ingredients from the pantry, because it's 100% true.

They busy themselves joking around and preparing the lasagna until it's ready to go into the oven, and then all they need to do is wait for it to be done, so they decide on sitting on the back porch, enjoying the fresh breeze of the evening.

“I want to talk to you about something important,” Jongdae says, clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

Sehun side-glances at him and quickly looks away. “Please tell me it isn't what I think it is.”

Jongdae ignores him and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the talk they're about to have. “I don't know if your parents ever brought up this topic—”

“Oh god no, this is so awkward, stop,” Sehun lets out a breathy laugh.

“Sehun, I see you as a little brother, I feel under the obligation to—”

“I'm _seventeen_ ,” Sehun huffs, “I know what condoms are, thank you.”

“—explain certain stu— Oh.” Jongdae frowns and clears his throat, confused about how to continue. “Okay. So you know about—”

“—I know how to use protection, yes,” Sehun interrupts with a groan, but he's slightly blushing. “Also all that moral stuff about waiting for the right person but I think that's mostly bullshit.”

“Oh.” Jongdae laughs nervously, fidgeting with the holes in the porch's wood to keep his eyes away from Sehun's face. “God this is awkward.”

“That's what I just said.”

“But I feel at ease now.” Jongdae smiles, and finally dares to look up at the boy. Sehun doesn't look flustered at all now, just looking ahead over the plantation. But Jongdae isn't fooled, he knows too well that Sehun has a perfect resting bitch face and always uses it to mask his true emotions.

“I didn't know you liked guys,” Jongdae prompts after a while, carefully scanning Sehun's expression for involuntary changes.

“I didn't know either,” Sehun easily replies, shrugging, and then lowers his head, flustered, and looks away for a fraction of a second, but in the blink of an eye he goes back to staring down at Jongdae with his usual deadpan expression.

“Wait,” Jongdae suddenly straightens his back and scoots forward. “So you don't know...?”

Sehun gapes and quickly avoids Jongdae's eyes, looking for anything to put his attention on instead.

“Do you know what this means?” Jongdae beams excitedly. “You do need The Talk! But the upgraded gay version, with all the butt stuff and—”

“LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!” Sehun springs up and storms into the house, running and covering his ears like a little kid.

Jongdae chuckles and quickly follows behind. He wants to embarrass Sehun as much as possible _so badly_. And what better way than start yelling about enemas and extra strength condoms and types of lube at the poor boy while he tries to escape.

“This is really important, Sehun!” Jongdae laughs as they run around the house. “You should be taking notes!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The weekend arrives and, with it, the preparations for Jongin's housewarming party come to an end.

It's always amazing how easily people can organize themselves without an explicit plan when it comes to parties. Since the early afternoon, a dozen of workers from the plantation and a handful of neighbors from the valley started appearing at Jongin's front yard with food, decorations and a colorful array of unused household items and small furniture pieces to fill the house. Someone even brought a stereo with speakers to blast music for the whole area.

As the hours went, Jongin's expression went from surprised to grateful to worried about where he was going to put all that stuff, but he smiled and thanked each and every person that showed up to his door, introducing himself and trying to remember everyone's names.

Jongdae was one of the first people to arrive early in the afternoon, accompanied by a very excited Sehun and a bag full of bedsheets that he didn't use anymore, and they both joined the small group of people carefully hanging garlands over the front porch and taking tables outside to the front yard for food and drinks.

By the end of the afternoon, the place looks like a festival, with colorful lights and animated music and more food and drinks than the whole valley could eat and drink. Jongin seems to have finally relaxed a bit, playing around with Sehun somewhere inside the house, and Jongdae is busy enough trying to open a wine bottle without a corkscrew using the boot method against the wood of the porch, when Yixing finally arrives.

“Hey.” He stands right below the stairs to the porch, confusedly frowning at barefoot Jongdae and at the bottle inside a boot in his hand. “Am I interrupting something important?”

“Oh, hi.” Jongdae barely looks up to check that it is, indeed, Yixing who just talked to him. The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Jongdae's stomach is immediately back, but he kills it with a sharp hit on the floor with the boot. “Jongin is inside.”

“I brought him a couple portable chargers for his phone.” Yixing opens the plastic bag on his hands for Jongdae to look inside, but he doesn't, so Yixing just closes it again awkwardly. “I figured they would be useful for a teen.”

“Good call.” Jongdae slams the wooden floor with the bottle-boot again, and the cork finally comes out enough for him to be able to pull it off with his hands. “Actually, pretty thoughtful of you.”

Jongdae can see Yixing smiling in the corner of his eye, but opts for not looking up, slowly tying his boot back around his foot. Their conversations, in one way or another, always end up in tense arguments. They have nothing in common to talk about. It's probably for the best to keep their interactions to a minimum and avoid ruining Jongin's party.

“See you later then,” Yixing trails out, lingering around just long enough for Jongdae to answer (if he wanted to, that is), and finally walks up the porch and inside the house.

Jongdae sighs, rubbing his face with one hand. That went well enough. No conflict, just a polite conversation between acquaintances. A success.

He sighs again, deeper this time. Why won't that annoying knot in his stomach go away, then.

 

By the time the sky is dark, half of the people in front of Jongin's house are tipsy enough to dance to summer pop hits and laugh loud enough to be heard over the chatter that comes out of the little groups of people around the table.

Jongdae is tipsy enough to join the first group, but not so drunk to forget that he owns two left feet. Joining the people at the table sounds great in theory; they're all people he works with and he's known since he was a kid, and they're really fun to be around. But, after a week of particularly hard work after the rains, he's just too tired to care. It's just too hard to think of anything else when his muscles are sore enough to make his whole body feel heavy and clumsy.

He resolves to go up the porch and lean over the veranda, watching the others have fun from the sidelines. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol are there, stuffing their faces with sandwiches and laughing at who knows what. Sehun and Jongin are there too, still next to each other, pouring drinks in their glasses that are _definitely_ not just coke. Jongdae hasn't seen one without the other since the party started, and he can't help but smile a bit to himself. Sehun looks kind of different, _happier_ , when he's around Jongin.

Jongdae's eyes trail over the crowd, but they stop at a not so familiar figure in the middle of moving bodies. Dancing with the old lady that lives in the house next to Jongdae's, Yixing moving to the rhythm of the music. He makes dancing salsa look so easy, carefully holding one of her hands and turning her around, his hips swinging to the sides with each of his precise footsteps, gracefully following the rhythm and leading the dance.

Yixing is not wearing a suit today, Jongdae realizes as he notices the way his tight jeans squeeze his thighs with every movement. He's still wearing a shirt, but it looks like a size too big, hanging from his shoulders and loosely tucked in his pants. The fabric is so thin, though, that it leaves little to the imagination. Not that Jongdae needs to imagine anything; he can just _remember_ what's beneath.

It seems that he's been staring for a bit too long because, when Jongdae dares to look up at Yixing's face, he's staring _back_.

Yixing lets out the brightest smile, annoyingly cute dimples and all, and starts dancing even more animatedly, hips threatening to _dislocate_ from the passion of his moves. Jongdae isn't sure anymore if Yixing just enjoying the party or downright mocking him.

“You're going to wear him away if you keep staring.” Junmyeon leans over the veranda next to Jongdae, smug smirk on his face. “Why aren't you dancing with him? Already pushed your new boyfriend away? This is a new record.”

Jongdae scoffs. At least he can be sure that Junmyeon _is_ mocking him. “Not my boyfriend, not pushing him away, no new record.”

“You didn't say you weren't staring.” Junmyeon grins, pleased. Fuck Junmyeon.

Jongdae sighs and rubs his face, trying to get some sense in himself or, at least, stop his eyes from trailing back to Yixing. “What do you want, I'm not in the mood for your games.”

“I know, I could see that from the other side of the party.” Junmyeon chuckles, and leans closer to almost whisper in Jongdae's ear. “You're in the mood for sulking for your not-boyfriend.”

“Stop it.” Jongdae glares at him. “It isn't what you think.”

“Oh? Then what is it?”

“Why do you even care?” Jongdae says, trying to divert the topic, and scrunches his body further over the railing.

“Because you're staring at him again and honestly, it's becoming too creepy to consider it cute or funny.”

Yixing is smiling at him again, and Jongdae realizes that he can only know this because he is, indeed, staring again. “Oh my god, you're right.” He turns around, leaning with his back against the veranda's pillar to avoid having Yixing in his range of vision. “I'm so fucked, Junmyeon.”

“So much I can see.” Junmyeon chuckles. “Why don't you talk to him instead of staring like an elementary kid with his first crush? Doesn't he like you back?”

“I don't think so,” Jongdae says without even thinking, and belatedly realizes that he's right. Why would he? Yixing has every reason to hate him. “I've been a major asshole to him for _weeks_ , and I haven't even said I'm sorry.”

“Ouch, that sounds pretty awful.” Junmyeon grimaces and pats Jongdae in the back. “Look at the bright side, though: you do have a new record. _Weeks?_ ”

“Fuck you,” Jongdae snarls, punching Junmyeon's arm. The other just laughs and shakes, trying to avoid his fists.

“He's okay, I guess, but we don't even have anything in common.” He sighs after a moment, recalling all their past interactions. “You know I hate corporations, and he—” Jongdae trails off, frowning. Yixing does too. He works for one, but he made perfectly clear that it's just because he _has_ to.

“And he?” Junmyeon presses.

“He doesn't value the community like we do,” Jongdae says in the end, changing his sentence.

“Then why is he here?” Junmyeon asks, legitimately curious, and okay. _Fair point_. He has to care at least a little bit to come so far to a housewarming party for a kid he's seen like _twice_.

“We're just too different.” Jongdae shrugs off. “I'm too invested in the plantation and he doesn't even understand how it works.” Not that Jongdae ever cared to explain, though. And maybe he does understand a little bit, given that he's been researching the plantation to bring new business offers for the past few weeks. Yixing also looked interested every time Jongdae decided to show him around. He looked so amazed by the red bananas. He said he wanted to ask how they kept the air so humid the day the sprinklers went off. There are probably a lot more examples, but Jongdae hasn't exactly been paying much attention, instead choosing to focus on being a complete idiot all along.

“Jongdae!” Sehun calls from his seat at the table. “Since you're already there, can you bring us another bottle of coke?”

Jongdae sighs. “Sure.” He might as well take a break inside the house.

The kitchen has a huge window along the whole wall, and the full moon is shining so bright that Jongdae doesn't even bother turning the light on. He isn't going to be in there for long, anyway. The soda bottles aren't on the counter, so he tries the fridge.

“I'll help you.”

Jongdae jumps, startled by the voice at his side. He didn't even hear Yixing come in.

“It's okay, I can find it myself.”

“I _want_ to help you,” Yixing remarks, and moves closer to have a better look inside the fridge.

Jongdae swallows, conflicted. On one hand, Yixing is being his usual persistent self, and it’s so annoying that he wants to huff and tell him to go away. But on the other hand... Yixing is so close that his heart decided to act on its own accord and just skipped a beat, and Jongdae can't help but feel nervous.

Why would he want to help him anyway? Their last conversation ended on such bad terms that Yixing shouldn't even be speaking to him at this point.

“I'm sorry,” Jongdae blurts out, and Yixing frowns at him as he closes the fridge's door. “About everything. You're right, I should have been a lot nicer to you.”

Yixing chuckles, leaning back against the counter. “It's okay.”

“No, it's not okay.” Jongdae clears his throat and takes a step back to be able to look into Yixing's face properly. “I can be a bit too crude sometimes, that's just how I am, but I've been downright rude to you. I'm really sorry.”

“It's fine. I understand, really,” Yixing smiles, looking down at his feet. “You're busy, you're stressed, and then on top of that you have to deal with my corporate bullshit. I get it.”

Jongdae opens his mouth to protest, but Yixing cuts him.

“And I accept your apology, so don't say you're sorry again.” He winks and grins, and he looks so absurdly beautiful under the moonlight that Jongdae can only smile back. So Yixing doesn't hate him, that's good. Jongdae feels suddenly relieved, but the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach is still there, keeping him on the brink.

“Isn't it a bit ironic that you're against corporations while you yourself own a company, though?” Yixing breaks the silence. “Because that's what the plantation is, just a company after all.”

Jongdae chuckles. “Yeah, it is.”

Yixing frowns, a questioning expression on his face. He wasn't expecting that answer.

“Don't think I've never thought about that,” Jongdae explains. “Actually, I looked into changing the plantation to a cooperative for a while, but... the process is too complex.”

“So you gave up?”

“No, I haven't given up,” Jongdae says defensively, and then looks away. “Okay... maybe a little bit.”

Yixing chuckles, but scoots forward, tilting his head as if hinting him to continue.

“You know, I like to think I'm an intelligent person.” Jongdae sighs. “I had to teach myself how to manage the plantation when I was a fucking kid as young as Sehun, and it was hard as hell. But I did, and the plantation survived.”

“Wow, I did not know that.” Yixing's eyebrows shoot up, surprised. “I can imagine that was pretty hard.”

“In hindsight, I think I was just really lucky.” Jongdae shrugs and purses his lips. “I had a lot of help from the workers, I don't know what would had happened if it weren't for them.”

“I mean, it was in their best interest, wasn't it?” Yixing asks. “It was either helping you with the plantation or losing their job.”

Jongdae nods. “That's one more reason why I wanted to turn it into a co-op plantation, make us all equals as workers instead of owner and employees. I mean, I work just as much as everyone else, but at the end of the day the plantation is under my name, and that obviously creates a power imbalance that shouldn't be there. But I don't know, I started looking into the laws and the processes to change the type of business and it was all too much for me.” He stops and sighs, looking down, too embarrassed to continue. “Don't laugh at me, okay?”

Yixing smiles and frowns, confused. “Why would I laugh?”

“I... haven't finished high school.” Jongdae steals a quick glance at Yixing's face, but it's unreadable under so little light. “There's only so much I can do. Ask me about the optimal distribution of banana plants or growth ratios or irrigation and I can talk for hours, but I struggle reading long words in legal documents.”

“You shouldn't feel ashamed of that,” Yixing cuts in. “No one knows everything. You know so much stuff about a lot of things I can't even imagine, and they're practical things.” He takes a step forward and huffs, frustrated. “Hell, you grow food from scratch, how cool is that?”

Jongdae's eyes widen at the unexpected praise. He hopes that Yixing can't see the blush on his cheeks in the dim light. “Not as cool as seducing all my female workers with a few hip shakes,” he teases, abruptly changing the topic to move the center of attention away from himself. “That's a practical skill I don't have.”

“Only the female workers?” Yixing smirks, unfazed. “Damn, I really need to practice my moves.”

“Maybe some of the guys too, but I wouldn't know, I wasn't looking at them.” Jongdae shrugs, because _fuck it_. He should stop pretending that he isn't interested— or actually, that he hasn't been interested in Yixing for a long time now. Junmyeon is right, this is getting beyond ridiculous.

“Oh? What were you looking at?” Yixing presses, teasing back. “Or who?”

Jongdae lets out a nervous laugh. He knows that there is no way that Yixing didn't notice him staring earlier, but the question still makes him feel shaky. This is another side of Yixing he didn't know that existed — flirty, unabashed, confident, just like that time he danced for him.

“In my defense, you dance really well. It's hard not to stare,” Jongdae finally admits, trying to sound nonchalant.

Yixing smiles and leans forward slowly, weighing Jongdae's response as he scoots closer in the darkness. Jongdae doesn't even flinch and holds his stare on Yixing's eyes, even if his heart is pounding so hard that the other can probably hear it.

“I guess you only like me for my moves, then.” Yixing is the one to avert his eyes, glancing down at Jongdae's mouth. “That's a shame.”

Jongdae can't help but snort. “That was the lamest attempt to get me to kiss you I've ever heard.”

Yixing laughs and scratches the back of his neck, self-conscious, but doesn't step away. “Well, did it work?”

Jongdae hesitates, wondering if he really should do this. Their relationship was meant to be purely professional, and it's about to get really messy.

But Yixing gives him the warmest smile, the shade of those annoying dimples becoming even more prominent under the moonlight, and reaches to curl a hand around Jongdae's neck in an open invitation. It's more than enough to make Jongdae stop overthinking and finally step forward, closing the distance between them and clashing their mouths together.

The first thing Jongdae notices is how soft and plump Yixing's lips feel under his own, moving slowly and pressing back against his. The hand on the back of his neck slides down and sets over his front, palm resting warmly against his chest.

The second thing Jongdae notices is how fast his heart is beating under Yixing's hand, and it makes him internally freak out, worried that he might notice. Jongdae pulls away, taking a deep breath to try and make it stop, and clears his throat.

“I was wanting to kiss you anyway,” he manages to say nonchalantly.

Yixing chuckles. “But my lame pick-up line did the trick.”

“More like made me rethink my life choices,” Jongdae bites back. “But you're lucky I don't have very high standards.”

“Right,” Yixing says sarcastically, and leans back in with a smug smile still on his lips.

This time it’s Yixing who takes control over the kiss, snaking a hand around Jongdae's waist and pulling their bodies together. Jongdae can't help but melt under the touch, parting his lips and letting Yixing slide his tongue against his, graze his teeth against Jongdae's lower lip, press light kisses against the corners of Jongdae's mouth. It's been so long since the last time someone managed to rile him up so easily that Jongdae doesn't even register the soft moan that leaves his mouth until he hears Yixing chuckle softly against his jaw, but he forgets to protest when he feels Yixing sucking at the soft skin below his ear.

There's a loud thud at the door followed by a laugh and, suddenly, there's so much light that Jongdae has to block it with his hand. Yixing steps back abruptly, as if he were scared of getting caught, leaving him with a weird cold feeling over the front of his body.

Jongdae squints at the door and Sehun and Jongin flinch and immediately stop laughing.

“Sorry.” Sehun snorts, and Jongin hits his arm to tell him off. “We didn't know you were busy in here.”

“We were... the bottles...” Jongin tries to explain, but Sehun is already pushing him through the corridor and outside the house.

Yixing stands in the middle of the kitchen, looking anywhere but at Jongdae. The boys' laughs outside the house resonate through the window, making the situation even more awkward, if possible.

“I think I should get going,” Yixing says, turning around and running a hand through his hair. He huffs and heads to the door, but Jongdae quickly grabs his wrist to stop him.

“Why?” Jongdae doesn't even care that his voice sounds a bit desperate. He's finally let himself go, and he isn't willing to go back to how things were before.

Yixing opens his mouth to answer but closes it again, carefully studying Jongdae's face. “Shouldn't I?”

“Stay,” Jongdae pleads.

“You want me to stay?” Yixing frowns, dumbfounded.

“I'm asking you to, yes.” Jongdae lets Yixing's wrist go, leaving him to make a decision freely.

“Okay,” Yixing says softly, looking down at his now free hand to try and hide the smile on his face.

 

Yixing has his car parked next to the road in front of Jongin's house, but they both agree that walking is a much better idea. Yixing is too scared of driving on these roads in the darkness — he still doesn't know the area that well — and Jongdae's drank enough to not be able to drive. Besides, the valley is not that big, and there's only a ten minutes walk down the hill to Jongdae's house.

They walk mostly in silence, the sound of their steps against the dirt road the only thing that can be heard over the distant music from the party. They exchange glances here and there, smiling at each other before looking back at the ground to check where they put their feet, because the full moon might be high and bright, but so deep between mountains and so far from nearby towns, the night in the valley is still dark.

The atmosphere between them isn't awkward at all, though. Jongdae loves this change in their relationship. Outside of work hours they can be really comfortable around each other — Yixing isn't pushing his proposals in Jongdae's face, Jongdae isn't reacting harshly due to the stress of an interminable to-do list in his head. Jongdae belatedly realizes that this isn't the first time they've been so relaxed around each other as he remembers the brief conversations they had along the way — the memory of that rainy afternoon in the shed really brings a smile to his face — all they ever had to do was put aside the stressing things that stood between them to have a good time.

And maybe those few interactions are the reason why Jongdae can't keep his head straight around Yixing. Because he's hot, okay, but deep down Jongdae knows that the attraction he feels isn't purely physical. It's his soft gentleness, the sweetness in his smiles, and those damn cute dimples what make his head spin, but also his determination and his unrelenting persistence — even if he hates Yixing a little bit for bothering him non-stop, he has to admit that it's an admirable trait.

“Why do you like me?” He suddenly finds himself asking. He's too curious not to, anyway.

“What?” Yixing smiles, confused.

“Why would you like me?” Jongdae repeats. “I've only been a jerk to you, I don't understand why you would want to do anything with me.”

Yixing chuckles, looking ahead to avoid Jongdae's gaze. “That isn't true, you've actually been really nice to me.”

Jongdae frowns. Nice? When?

“You've taught me a lot of stuff,” Yixing answers as if he could read the question in his mind. “This is my first job after college, you know? Getting heard by the higher-ups isn't easy, but I managed to do it because you've always taken the time to explain exactly why my proposals wouldn't work.” He sighs, throwing a quick glance at Jongdae. “Even if your way of speaking was a bit harsh... I understand where you were coming from. And I admire that you have such a strong set of values, it's kind of hot.”

“Yeah, well.” Jongdae looks away, clearing his throat to mask the giddiness in his voice. “There were better ways I could have handled that.”

Yixing chuckles and steps closer, pushing Jongdae with his shoulder and almost making him lose his balance. “Maybe that strong set of farmer arms had something to do with it too.”

Jongdae splutters as he feels his face go bright red and he's thankful, _again_ , for the dim light of the moon. But mostly he just grins, because he knows he's ripped after so much physical labor, and he's more than proud of it. He just didn't expect Yixing to notice.

“Why do _you_ like me, though?” Yixing presses, tilting his head to get a better look at Jongdae's. “Didn't you say I was just pestering you all the time?”

“Oh, look, that's my house right there,” Jongdae says, dodging the question. He picks up the pace and makes a beeline towards the door, but he can still hear Yixing letting out the brightest laugh somewhere behind his back.

Jongdae climbs up the stairs to the front porch and suddenly feels a sharp smack to his ass. He turns around just to find Yixing grinning up at him.

“Sorry.” Yixing bites his lip, not sorry at all. “I also like your butt.”

Jongdae snorts, completely out of words as he digs in his pockets for his keys and unlocks the door. “Thanks, I guess?”

A pair of hands set on his hips and push him against the wall as soon as the door closes. Yixing doesn't waste any time, immediately leaning forward to place feather kisses down the side of Jongdae's neck.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He mutters against his skin, almost whispering.

Jongdae chuckles, letting his hands come up to grab at the loops of Yixing's jeans. “I don't know if you have noticed, but I don't get to meet a lot of hot new guys around here. I'm not going to play hard to get at this point.”

Yixing pulls away just enough to look into Jongdae's eyes, a shy smile on his lips. “I'm hot?”

“Um, yes?” Jongdae deadpans. “Have you seen yourself?”

Yixing's gaze turns from timid to hungry in the blink of an eye, and his hands move to Jongdae's front, swiftly undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. “Okay then.”

Jongdae doesn't know how many more times his mind is going to blow with these unexpected contrasts. Yixing doesn't let him think too long about it, though. He drops to his knees so fast that Jongdae briefly thinks that he's actually _falling_ , but then takes his sweet time unzipping Jongdae's pants. His hands run down his thighs once, and then twice, slowly feeling the muscles under the fabric before they settle back on his waist, two fingers sliding under the waistband.

“Is this okay?”

His timid smile makes a second appearance as he looks up through his lashes, and Jongdae nods eagerly, but he is already regretting it. How can anyone look that cute while on their knees. He can _so_ see himself catching feelings for him and getting hurt.

But Yixing yanks both his pants and his boxers down in one move and Jongdae decides that he'll have enough time for regrets in the morning. He isn't more than half hard yet, but he's definitely getting there. Yixing doesn't seem to care, sticking out his tongue to flick it at the head, and smirking at the full body shudder that pulls out of Jongdae.

“Everything good up there?” Yixing teases, but he doesn't even wait for an answer, taking the head in his mouth and full lips stretching around the length as he bobs down, slow and teasing.

Jongdae's hand somehow finds its way into his perfectly styled hair. It's sticky and full of product, and his fingers get stuck between hair strands. He tries with an experimental tug and immediately regrets it, because Yixing's sudden moan sends a vibration all the way from the tip of his cock to his core, pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

Jongdae has to physically force himself to shut his eyes close and breathe through his nose to calm down. It's been way too long since the last time he's had sex with anyone, and Yixing's tongue pressing against the underside only makes things harder (pun not intended). The way he looks up, meeting Jongdae's eyes as he swallows him down isn't helping either. If Yixing doesn't slow down, he's going to make him come real fast at this pace.

But Yixing doesn't know that, and surprises him with a particularly strong suck that makes him literally see white. Jongdae doesn't even have enough time to warn him before he's coming embarrassingly fast against the roof of his mouth with a high pitched whine.

“Woah— Fuck.” Jongdae exhales as he braces himself back against the wall, face burning. “Sorry, I didn't expect—”

Yixing licks his lips and visibly swallows, looking up with a smug smile. Jongdae forgets to end his sentence. Instead, he pulls Yixing back up and crashes their mouths together, kissing him hungrily. He can taste himself in Yixing's tongue as he licks past his lips, but that's only riling him up further, so much that he can already feel himself getting hard again.

“Take me to your room?” Yixing whispers hesitantly.

Right, they're still at the front door. Jongdae takes a second to breathe and collect himself, tucking himself back into his pants, and nods. He so wants to do this.

The bedroom is right at the end of the corridor, and Jongdae stumbles inside and lets himself fall back on the bed, dragging the other in a clumsy kiss on top of him.

Yixing can't keep his hands to himself, slowly slipping under Jongdae's shirt and tracing the muscles with his fingertips. Jongdae takes it as a cue to take his shirt off over his head, not even bothering unbuttoning it.

He can't help but feel exposed. Yixing stares down unabashedly, sprawling his hands over the exposed skin, and then leans forward to mouth at the collarbones, sucking and nipping at the skin. Jongdae shivers and whimpers, his skin burning under every touch.

Before he can even register it, his hands are tangled on the fabric of Yixing's shirt, fighting with the buttons and sliding it down his shoulders. Yixing pulls away just long enough to take it off and throw it to the floor, but immediately goes back to kissing Jongdae's front all over. His tongue traces a little circle around one nipple and Jongdae moans and chuckles, self-conscious.

“It's ridiculous how much you can rile me up doing nothing,” he breathes out.

“ _I_ do?” Yixing raises an eyebrow. “Every day I come so determined to remain strictly professional, but as soon as you talk to me all my determination starts to crumble.”

Jongdae gapes, out of words. Since when has that been happening?

“You never noticed?” Yixing chuckles. “I thought I was being pretty obvious.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Jongdae blurts out as abruptly as he can, because he knows how cute Yixing looks when he's flustered, and he kind of wants to erase that smug smile from the other's face and make him feel as nervous as he is.

It works. Yixing steps back, wide eyed. The cutest shade of pink spreads up to the tip of his ears. But it doesn't last long, and too quickly his surprised expression turns into a smirk. “Yes, sir.”

“Hmpf,” Jongdae groans, grimacing. “Major turn off. Sehun says that all the time.”

“Sorry,” Yixing frowns and backtracks. “Can I call you by your name?”

Jongdae raises his eyebrows and glances down, catching for the first time a good glimpse of Yixing's ridiculously perfect abs, and then looks back up into the other's eyes. “Yixing, we're half naked. I think you earned that right a long while ago.”

“Right.” Yixing laughs good-naturedly and pulls away, sitting back on his heels and looking around the room. “Lube?”

“Top drawer, there's everything in there.” Jongdae points to the nightstand, and Yixing crawls up the bed and reaches over Jongdae's head to dig into the drawer. His hair is a mess, sticking in every direction instead of the flawless wave he always sports, but somehow that only makes him look better. Wilder, even.

“Um. Jongdae.” Yixing stills, and turns around with a banana shaped dildo in his hand. “What is this?”

Jongdae covers his face with both hands. He's so red his head is probably going to explode, and, honestly, he kind of wishes it does, because he doesn't want to face Yixing right now.

“Wow, you really love your bananas.” Yixing laughs, squeezing and examining the bright yellow dildo in his hand.

“Shut up, it was a gag gift,” Jongdae whines into his hands. He can't believe he forgot he hid it inside that same drawer.

“Right.” Yixing arches an eyebrow. “But you keep it right next to the lube.”

Jongdae huffs, embarrassed, and peeks from behind his fingers. “Are you going to fuck me or not.”

Yixing chuckles and puts the dildo back in the drawer, taking out the bottle of lube and a condom and throwing them on the bed. He crawls back over Jongdae and leans in to kiss him softly on the lips.

“Take these off,” he says, patting Jongdae's thighs, but before Jongdae can actually do anything, he reaches around the waistband and starts to slowly pull everything down, leaving Jongdae completely naked on the bed.

Yixing slides his hands down Jongdae's thighs, pressing and squeezing with his fingers, as if he were testing the firmness under the skin. Jongdae would feel embarrassed, but the sight of Yixing biting his lip and frowning in concentration takes all his focus away, making him blush in anticipation.

“Should I turn around?” Jongdae asks, hesitant.

“If you're more comfortable,” Yixing says, already smearing lube on his fingers.

He would definitely be more comfortable not letting Yixing see the flustered expression in his face, Jongdae thinks, and rolls over, propping himself on his elbows and knees. Belatedly, he realizes that he feels a lot more exposed in this position, but it's already done.

A hand falls in a light smack on one of his cheeks, squeezing and kneading the flesh there, and Jongdae can't help but moan and lean back into the touch. He can hear Yixing chuckling close behind. Jongdae is glad he can't see his face.

He starts very slowly with one finger. It feels kind of uncomfortable at first, it's definitely been too long since the last time Jongdae's had time to finger himself — even longer since the last time anyone did it for him. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax as Yixing adds a second finger, and suddenly everything feels a lot nicer. Yixing starts actually moving inside of him, pumping in and out and slowly dragging his fingers against the walls, grazing the prostate with every movement. Jongdae moans and pushes back, trying to get more friction, and Yixing speeds up, but it doesn't feel enough.

“This feels good, but get on with it already,” Jongdae whines.

Yixing stills his hand and chuckles, pulling his fingers out. “Your wish is my command, Mr. Kim.”

“ _Don't._ ” Jongdae looks back and gives him a pointed look.

Yixing laughs. “Sorry, I had to try.”

He doesn't waste any more time, taking the rest of his clothes off and reaching for the foil package laying on the bed, tearing it open. Jongdae stills and waits, half nervous and half impatient, until he feels the head of Yixing's cock prodding at his hole and slowly pushing in.

Yixing bottoms out and stills, letting Jongdae accommodate to the stretch. He's too relaxed to feel any discomfort, but he's still a bit over sensitive from his last orgasm. He kind of likes that feeling of almost painful edge, though.

“Fuck— you're tight,” Yixing groans.

“It's been a while.” Jongdae admits, blushing, even though Yixing can't see it, and pushes back, signaling him to go on.

Yixing starts slow, with shallow thrusts, but gradually builds up to a nice rhythm, expertly rolling his hips in precise movements. Jongdae can't help but remember how well he was dancing earlier with that old lady. He has to put all his willpower into not laughing at the inappropriateness of his thought, but a particular precise thrust hits all the right places and he forgets about it, moaning loudly.

Yixing seems to notice, because he grips Jongdae's hips, keeping him in place, and repeats the same action over and over again, thrusting repeatedly against his prostate. Jongdae's arms eventually give up and let his chest fall against the mattress, moans getting drowned against the pillow as pleasure starts pooling in his stomach.

It surprises Jongdae that Yixing comes first. He stills for a second, hugging his waist and groaning against his back, but doesn't pull out. Instead, he reaches around and starts stroking Jongdae as he keeps pushing into him with shallow thrusts, kissing between his shoulder blades and all the way up the column of his neck.

Jongdae doesn't need much longer to follow him over the edge, coming into Yixing's hand with a loud whimper. He lets himself collapse on the bed, not minding the probable mess under his body and trying to catch his breath.

Yixing pulls out and takes off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the bin at the corner of the room. He sits on the edge of the bed and leans down, leaving a kiss on Jongdae's right cheek.

“Where's the bathroom?”

“First door on the right,” Jongdae mutters against the pillow, struggling to keep his eyes open.

He isn't sure if he falls asleep, but the next time Jongdae opens his eyes he feels clean and Yixing is back, standing beside the bed and putting his boxers on.

“You're staying the night, right?” He drawls out.

Yixing gives him a soft smile and lays on the bed next to him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. “Of course.”

“Good, because I really don't feel like walking you back to your car,” Jongdae chuckles.

Yixing doesn't laugh at the joke. Instead, he frowns and takes his arm back, pressing his lips together. “Is that the only reason you want me to stay?” He asks, cautiously. “I know how to go back myself if you don't—”

“No!” Jongdae hurriedly interrupts him, and looks into Yixing's eyes. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I want you to stay.”

Yixing smiles again, so hard that it makes his dimples appear on both of his cheeks. “Okay. I want to stay too.” He leans forward, kissing Jongdae's forehead, and then his cheeks, his nose, his mouth, and playfully nipping at his jaw.

“I'm too tired for a third round, though,” Jongdae says, pushing him away lightly.

“Third?” Yixing frowns, but then remembers. “Oh, right.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae lets out a breathy laugh. “Sorry about that.”

“It's okay,” Yixing shrugs, throwing an arm and a leg over Jongdae and pulling him closer in a hug. “It's nice to know that I turn you on that much. I feel powerful.”

“Shut up.” Jongdae makes to shove him away, but he doesn't mean it. “It was a one time thing.”

Yixing doesn't answer, instead choosing to kiss Jongdae's forehead and tighten his embrace around him. Jongdae immediately relaxes — Yixing smells like sex and fabric softener, and he feels so warm against his chest that he doesn't even register the moment he falls asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jongdae wakes up with an arm around his waist and a head resting on his chest. His body aches as if he had run a marathon the night before, and he's sweaty and sticky. The warmth from Yixing's body only adds to the rays of sunlight coming through the window and hitting his skin, but he wouldn't say he's uncomfortable.

Yixing looks so ridiculously beautiful even with his disheveled hair and his mouth open, peacefully breathing in his sleep.

Jongdae kisses the top of his head, and Yixing stirs, hugging his waist tighter.

“Morning.” Jongdae whispers.

Yixing groans and stirs some more, not even opening his eyes.

“Let me go make us something for breakfast,” Jongdae says, voice rough, trying to unwrap Yixing's arms from around his body, but he doesn't yield.

“I don't need breakfast, I just want to stay like this a bit longer.”

Jongdae bites his lips in a poor attempt to _not grin_. He really wants to give in and stay in bed all morning with naked Yixing wrapped around his waist. “I have to get ready for work.”

Yixing lifts his head at that, squinting at the window first, then at Jongdae, and reaching for his discarded jeans on the floor. He checks his phone and sighs, letting his head drop again on Jongdae's chest. “It's 6 AM.”

“More like 6:30, the sun already came up.” Jongdae clicks his tongue, mentally going through his tasks for the day and considering his options. “I'm not in a hurry because we had the party yesterday, everyone's going to come in late. But I should head out eventually.”

Yixing makes the tiniest whimpering noise. “It's Sunday.”

“You're more than welcome to explain that to my bananas,” Jongdae chuckles, shifting under the covers to turn on his side and face Yixing. “You can stay in bed if you want.”

Yixing stares back, and reaches up to tangle his fingers between Jongdae's hair curls. “It's amazing that you smell exactly like the plantation.”

“Sorry, I can take a shower before breakfast.” Jongdae says, already trying to get up, but Yixing grabs his arm to make him stay.

“No, I love it. Your skin smells like earth and fruits and...” He scoots closer, pressing his head back against Jongdae's chest. “I don't know, you smell like hard work under the sun. And you're only tanned up to the seam of your sleeves and down to your collarbones, it's so cute.”

Jongdae scoffs. “I'm not _cute_.”

“Yes, you are.” Yixing gives him a pointed look. “Even when you're so irritated telling me off. _Especially_ when you're telling me off.”

“Hmm... First was the _'Mr. Kim'_ and now this.” Jongdae smirks. “Is that a kink I'm sensing here?”

Yixing giggles and kisses his neck, hiding his face in the crook there, but Jongdae can feel him smiling against his skin. “I won't answer any questions outside the presence of an attorney.”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know that there are a few loose ends. Does Jongdae finally accept the deal? What happens to them? CHAN CHAN  
> I have a short epilogue planned out, it'll come out after reveals :) The story is complete, though! There's nothing important missing.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked it! :)


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